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ScMicesi 
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as  WIST  MAM  STRHT 

WnSTfR,N.Y.  USW 

(716)«7a-4S03 


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CJHM 
Microfiche 
Series 
(IMonographs) 


ICIMH 

Collection  de 
mi 


(monographles) 

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Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microroproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  da  mitcroraproducitions  historiquas 


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f  Mhriical  and  Bibliographic  Notm  /  Notas  tachniqiMS  px  bibiiographiquat 


The  Institute  hat  attempted  to  obtain  the  bast  original 
copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this  copy  which 
may  be  bibliographicairy  unique,  which  may  altar  any 
of  the  images  in  the  reproduction,  or  which  m«y 
significantly  change  the  usual  method  of  filming,  are 
checked  below. 


S' 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  la  maillaureMmplaira  qu'il 
lui  a  M  possible  da  sa  procurer.  Las  dtoi'ils  de  cet 
examplaire  qui  sont  paut-4tra  uniques  du  point  de  vue 
bibiiographiqua,  qui  pauvant  modifier  una  image 
raproduita.  ou  qui  pauv^t  axiger  una  modification 
dans  la  mithoda  normale  de  f  ilmage  sont  indiquAs 
ci-dessous. 


The 
toti 


The 
pos) 
of  tl 
film 


0 

n 
a 
n 

D 

D 
D 

n 
0 


n 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur' 

Covers  damaged/ 
Couverture  endommagto 

Covers  reftored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restauria  et/ou  pelliculte 

Cover  title  missing/ 

Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 

Coloured  mapl/ 

Cartas  gtegraphiquas  en  couleur 

Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  Mack)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  Meua  ou  noire) 

Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 
Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material/ 
Belli  avec  d'autres  documents 

Tight  binding  may  causa  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  reliure  serrte  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distorsion  le  long  de  la  marge  intirieure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may  appear 
within  the  text.  Whenever  pouible.  these  have 
been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajoutfas 
lors  d'une  restauratlon  apparaissant  dans  le  texta, 
mais,  lorsque  cela  itait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  M  film^. 


□  Coloured  pages/ 
Pages  de  couleur 

□  Pages  damaged/ 
Pmm  ancbmrnagtes 

□  Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Pages  restaurias  et/ou  pellicultes 

0  Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxad/ 
Pages  dicolortes.  tactiaties  ou  piquaes 

□  Pages  detached/ 
Pages  ditachtes 

0Showthrough/  ^' 

Transparence 


K 


.\ 


Ori| 

beg 

the 

sior 

othi 

first 

sior 

oril 


0 

D 
D 


Quality  of  print  varies/ 
Qualiti  in^la  de  I'impression 

Continuous  pagination/ 
Pagination  continue 


The 
sha 
TIN 
whi 

Mai 
diffi 
enti 
beg 
righ 
reqi 
met 


Includes  index(es)/ 
Comprend  un  (des)  index 

Title  on  header  taken  from:  / 
Le  titre  de  I'en-tAte  provient: 

Title  page  of  issue/ 

Page  de  titre  de  la  livraison 

Caption  of  issue/ 

Titre  de  depart  de  ta  livraison 

Masthead/ 


% 


V 


Additional  comments:/  Pagination  Is 

Con)mentaires  supplimentairas: 


GAnerique  (piriodiques)  de  la  livraison 
as  follows:  p.  [7]-[260]. 


This  item  is  filmed  at  ttie  reduction  ratjo  checked  baji 
Ce  document  est  f  ilm^  au  taux  de  rMuctipe  indiqwi  ei 


10X 

1IX 

itx 

22X 

J, 

2«X 

- 

• 

XX 

- 

J 

) 

' 

12X 


16X 


20X 


24X 


28X 


32X 


.  •**-  ..;„• 


\: 


The  copy  filmed  here  hai  been  reproduced/thanks 
to  the  generosity  of: 

National  Library  of  Canad< 


The  images  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  in  iceeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are'filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
vthe  last  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  ai^propriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  oh  the  last  pfige  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  — »>  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 

''    ■  < 
Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  Targe  to  be 
entirely  included  In  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  tlie  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  ttie 
method: 


L'exemplHire  f  ilm6  f  ut  reproduit  grflce  A  la 
g6n6rosit6  de: 

Bibliothdque  nationale  du  Cahdda 


Les  images  suivantes  ont  6t6  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  ia  condition  et 
de  la  nettet6  de  I'exemplaire  f  ilm6.  et  en 
conformity  avec  ieb  conditions  du  cpntrat  de 
filmage. 

Les  exemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprimte  sont  filmte  en  commen^ant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  ia 
dernlAre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreint^ 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  !•  second 
plat,  seion  le  cas.  Tous  les  autres  exempiairee 
origir^ux  sont  filmte  en  commen^ant  par  ia 
premlAre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impreikion  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  derrtiire  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaftra  sur  la 
dernidre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  seion  le 
cas:  le  symbole  —^  signifie  "A  SUIVBE",  ie 
symbols  y  signifie  "FIN". 

Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc..  peuvent  Atre 
filmte  A  des  taux  de  reduction  diff Arents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  Atre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  clichA,  11  est  filmA  A  partir 
de  t'angle  supArieur  gauche,  de  gauche  A  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  nAcessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
iilustrent  ia  mAthode. 


1 


^ 


B 


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The  Virginia  HeiHess. 


Bt 


MAY  AO-NES  PLEMINa, 


ilOTBOB  Vf 


"OUT  EAitLsooTzard  wira;"    "lost  fob  a  woman,* 

''A^LkDMABBIAOIB,'*   "▲  WONDEBFUL  WOMAN/'  im 


^ 


f  t 


'■J>^:\»' 


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K--^    <^i 


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SMITH,  PtthlM«iM» 


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\ 


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^'^» 

-%-i 


V 


•V 


.  \  I 


•Mordinff  to  Aot  of  OoBgTMs,  in  tha  yMT  un,- 
Br  Strket  a  Smith, 

o«  tbe  I4b«Mi»n  of  OongMM,  I*  WMhiagtoB,  a  a 


/ 


/•^ 


\ 


urent 


\ 


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f- 


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JflgJ 


(l        ■-■/■ 


r. 


N. 


THE  VIBGINIA  HSJIBESa 


/- 


/ 


»!*.i-d' 


CHAPTER  L 

X    SrOIL^Sl    CHILD. 


tong  lines  of  red  and  orange  were  paling  slowly  in  the  w^t- 
eni  sky,  sfilSWing  where  the  August  sun  hafl  dropped  behind  tfae 
blue  Virginian  hills,  as  Sybilla ,  Tresylian  stepped  through  the 
open  Frertch  window  into  the  grassy  laWn.     Singing  as  Ae 
n|tn^  Jiolding  a  book  in  one  hand,  and  swinging  her  hat  in  the 
^t^pr»%  its  rosy  ribbons^  followed  by  two  or  three  wooly  poo- 
d^pretematural  ugliness,  and  a  yelping  m^e  tan  terrier, 
young  lady  floated  across  the  Iawn-^ye%  floated,  I  say  it 
visedly ;  it  was  not  walking  that  airy,  graceful,  swimming 
ofion,  that  scarcely  seemed  to  bend  the  clipped  grass  on 
Iwhich  she  trod     She  floated  over  the  velvet  sward,  her  white 
muslin  dnMs  fluttering  in  the  faint  breeze  and  pink  ribbons 
blowing  about  her,  to  where,  under  some  giant  beeches  skirt- 


iles 


'*^ 


1-  1  <  f 

4-- 


"■m 


about,  and  an  arbor  of  green  vines  and  wild  sweet  roses.     And 
here.  stiU^singing /*Zao  darm,"  ^billa  TresyHan  flitted  her 


f     w^,. 


■.# 


1^- 


I 


to 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


tiry  skirts  over  a  rustic  ann-chair,  and  settled  herself  to  read- 
tbat  is  to  say,  to  look  at  the'rosjr  sunset,  to  play  with  her  dogs, 
to  throw  crumbs  to  her  swans,  to  ^ng  litUe  bits  of  operatic  airs,' 
and  to  read  between  whiles.  Her  book  was  "Lalla  Rookh," 
and  it  was  just  the  hour  and  just  the  scene  for  a  pretty,  send- 
mental  girl  to  dream  and  re^  poetiy. 

For  Miss  Tresylian.  granddaughter  avd  sole  heiress^  to  the 
richest  man  in  Virginia,  was  sentimental,  and  willful,  and  way- 
ward, and  a  little  sill^  sometimes.    She  raved  about  George 
Gordoh.  Lord  Byron,  and  his  dear,  delightliil,  wicked  "Cor- 
sair." and  "Giaour,'^  and  "Childe  Harold,"  and  she  doted 
on  Shelley,  and  Owen  Meredith,  and  Tennyson,  and  had  read 
more  novels  in  her  seventeen  years  of  life  than  would  stock  a 
dicalating  library.    She  was  petted  and  spoiled,  as  it  is  in  the 
liature  of  heiresses  to  be,  and  she  was  capricious  and  exacting, 
» and  held  firmly  to  the  opinion  that  among  aU  the  R  F.  V/i 
there  fiever  was  anything  like  the  "bitter,  bad  Treaylians." 
She  was  proud  of  her  old  name,  of  her^uistocratic  English  de- 
Mht;  bf  her  native  State,  of  her  stately  gnindpapa,.of  hey 
beautifiiloldJiome;lind  she  would  not  have  been  anybody 
butSybUlaTre^lian,  of  Tresylian,  Va.,  fgraUihcwctfld.  .     .- 
Look  at  her  as  she  sits'  there  uiider  the  bMcbe%  ^th  the 
ttemulousshadowsof  the  rose  leaves  fluttering  about  h^,  ai^d 
the  gleaming  orange  light  in  the  low  sl^  making  aa  Mu«ole 
^bund  her.    She  is  very  pnttty,  is  she  not,  with  those  ma^^i 
^^^citt"{eitaTes,Hi08c  large,  shining  gay  ^les,  that  grqiiJiat» 
Wttout^cfarthatM  of  ripping  chwnl  Jiair?..  She.ii 


y-  *. 


rm 


■V ''":" 


THB  VIRGINIA  HBIRSSS. 


f  to  read—,  ij 
I  her  dpgs,  |1 
)eiatic  aire,.  ''l\ 
a  Rookh," 
ettjr,  senti- 

ress  to  the 
,  and  way- 
bt  Geoige 
:ed  "Cor- 
she  doted 
I  had  read 
Id  stock  a 
it  is  in  the 
exacting, 
F«F.  V.'s 
nssfliaoa. 
Qglishde- 

H  of  h^ 

anjrbodf 


If 


petite,  but  proportioned  as  daintily  as  a  feiiy,  and  the  little  head 
can  poise  iteelf  with  queenly  grace  on  that  arching,  slender 
throat    ^5he  is  very  pretty;  and  very  charming,  and  very  rich, 
and  yet  poorer  than  other  girls,  for  she  has  neither  fethernor 
mother.     She  knows  she  is  a  bewitching  little  fairy,  for  has'she 
not  been  told  it  since  she  was  a  wee.  toddling  thing;  and  she 
is  coquettish,  and  fickle,  and  vain,  and  sUly.    She  is  alT  this, 
but  ren^ember,  she  never  had  a  mother.     If.  by  and  by.  you 
come  to  despise  her,  and  think  veiy  badly  of  her  for  sins  and 
misdoings,  remember  this.     She  never  had  a  mother;  she  has 
been  an  orphan  since  babyhood.     If  she  does  wrong,  it  is  be- 
cause she  has  ne^ver  been  taught  to  do  right ;  she  has  been  al- 
most taught  to  l?9lievethiit  she  cannot  sin ;  that  she  is  a  beauti- 
ful and  perfect  being;  that  life  is  one  long  summer  holiday,  and 
that  she  is  todance  along  her  shining  life  pathway,  gatheri^  in 
roses  without  tfronw.    StiflTering  and  sorrow,  and  sin  and!  thame 
there  may  bein  this  big  world,  but  they  are  to  be  oMneaA- 
ihgless  words  to  iliss  Tresyliaii,  of  Tresylian  Ha^L'  A  doting 
gnmd&ther;  an  idfeliiing  nurte,  admiriig  servant^  and  toady- 
ing teachers  have  only  praised,  and  flattered,  and  caressed;  no 
whims  are  to  be  contradicted,  no  fcncy  thwarted. 
-  "Let  her  crown  hereelf  with  roses  before  they  fide,"  is  to  be 
Ai^otto  of  all  *rho  approach  her;  .         * 

^  So  SybiHaTre^liMi  sits  in  the  green  gloOm  of  the  ariw  <m 
het^  seventeenth  birthday,  and  watches  the  August  sun  go  down 

amt^rcrouds,"  and  chattera  pretty 


ircanopjr<if-i 

,,1;  '  . "w.«    |«SV«»^ 

ttoasense  to  her  dbg*,  i^nd  whistles  to  the  stately  swans,  and 

\        .  '.      .1,.       ■  i 


'A' 


•1 


r 


-^\. 


IM 


raw  nxGJiirA  m/tMss. 
^  little  bit,  of  „dody  fK„»  "Ulla  <lookl,»   ar«,dbr 

her  chair  to  read  in  earnest 

_  Tie  low  ,.ll„«  ,igh.  p„„  ^,„  „j  j^,^^  ._^  ^^  ^^^^ 

Ar.  «,d  Ae  b.g;,  white  Aug»,.  moon  sails  s«e„ely  „p  behind 
Jd..  m^  hilK  Theevening  b«e».  all  .cent«l  wii  .^  ^d 
p.gnonett.„d  heliotrope,  lifl,  a,e  bright.e«,b  .t  iu«prir« 
«II.  .»ngb.rf  ,„  U,e  pine  woods  trills  sweefly  its  vesper  chant. 

a«agh  4.  g^  i„„  entanceisate^  and  rides  up  ft.  ,on/ 

kooft  &  I  on  tarfy  sward.  »d  she  hea»  him  not    She  is  thon- 
«nds  of  «.1«  .w,y--.in  u>at  deligbtfiU  region  of  the  sun." 

«  »  h^  b«hda,.  „d  ftat  there  is  to  be  a  party,  «.d  «^  she 
h«  to  dress,  and  4a,  «,n,ebody,  in  whom  she  oagh.  to  be  (nore 
mte^sM  U.n  e.n  ta  M.^nna.  is  to  art™  ftis  tn^^  "a" 
fo^ts  evening  but  Tom  Moo-e's  enchanting  mas^iec. 

nlveiy  moon  sails  up  to  the  zenith.  .  ana  tne. 

Suddenly  two  hand,  «e  clasped  over  heroes,  and  some  on. 
tieope  down  and  kisses  her  cheek. 

"Eleanor?"  Sybilla  said  at  a  ventnia      ^  ..:■■■■-■■' 

•  No,  not  Eleanor.     Gnosagain." 

Sybilla  .un«l  up  with  »  .rv.  fer  k.  .^' ^„x  ^ . 

le  voice  or  o  «-«        *_  _.-  -  •»rau5c, 


«ii^  .^'      f^ "^ — —^-^i^J'Y^i^cTOiBB  was  strange,  ted^ 

«..™c..f,„,„.    A.d..conlh,a,«lhi»br«thlJrty,Ar 


:.»lhi*l1>>%«l 


'Vm>^i*4^  u4 


l^-^ni¥r'^^;#- 


c\ 


r 


i'  ■ 


..  .  ^ '.-.,.._ 


''i^. 


i  eveiylhing  in 
I  settles  back  in. 

in  the  western 
nely  up  behind 
with  roses  arid 
It  its  capricious 
s  vesper  chant, 
comes  slowly 
s  up  the  long, 
but  his  horse's 
She  is  thou- 
of  the  sun," 
id  forgets  that 
and  that  she 
ht  to  be  inore 
evening.    She 
masterpiece, 
>wer,  and  the. 

ad  seme  one    . 


I 


stranger^ftRi 
thiessly,  she 


rdf 


''.m 


VIRGINIA  HEIRESS, 


>3 


uttered  another  ezclaBiation,  and  held  out  both  hai^ds  with  a 
radiant  &ce.  . 

"Eustace  I  Oh,  dear  me  I  how  glad  I  am  to  see  you  1  You 
scared  me  nearly  to  deathi     When  did  you  come  ?" 

The  young  man  laughed  good-na,turedly  aA  the  torrent  of 
words.  He  was  a  tall  young  man,  of  five  or  six-and-twenty, 
sallow,  and  plain,  and  intelligent,  and  gentlemaaly  of  air  and 
bearing,  with  a  profusion  of  lig^t  whiskers  9f^A  mustache,  and 
close-cropped  light  hair.  '  ' 

'^'l^hen  did  I  come?  About  fifteen  minutes  ago.  I  shook 
hands "with  the  governor  and  Mrs.  Waldron ;  leasned  from  Miss 
Eleanor  Waldron  that  I  should  probably  find  you  here,  and  so 
I — I  came,  X  saw,  I  conquered.  As  fond  of  reading  and  poo- 
dle dogs  as  ever,  Sybilla?" 

0 

Sybilla  nodded  and  laughed,  and  looked  at  hhn  as  though 
taking  his  measure  for  a  suit  of  clothed  The  young  man  took 
off  his  tall  hat  and  stood  bareheaded  before  her  for  inspection. 
They  were  distant  cousins,  Sybilla  and  Eustace  Tresylian. 
They  had  grown  up  tofl|^i>  and  they  had  not  met  for  five 
years..  ^        W   •       .S 

i    "Well,  Sybilla,  will  I  do?"         ^ 

/'Not  for  v!X3  husband,"  said  Sybilla  Tresylian,  with  a  frank, 
innocent  laugh.  "Grandpapa  told  me  the  other  day  that  he 
destined  you  for  that  honor;  but  it  won't  do,  Eustace." 

" Why Yiot,  Sybilla?" 
Ltook  out  hirdgar  caw  aa  hegp^  ju^tMydk^c^>IJy^ 

"Mayin.  \  „  '     \ 


I  -y 


m 


/ 


/■         - 


11 


.^^r 


l!.n*»f«^ 


r  y- 


^jr^  ffhi  v.F,i^V|:.ii  I^tf,.-i 


Cf  'S*'' 


i*ij,i,*,  ■'Z-i^: 


"Oh,  tobe#^^eI    I'm*  used  *«  ;♦         " 

•"daylong.     Smot..o-.««     "if  »«et 


,' 


'"A 
with  a 
I  imp: 

Come 


Thousand  thanks  I    And  while  I  Zj    ^'         '      ^ 

yon  so,  do  you?"  ^"^^^you  don't  mind  me  teUin„      ^°°'' 

"%  no  means "  tafrf  nr     r.       ^  I      ^^^ 

-"ter  o,  yo,r  mindf  „i.  r^^r  '  °'«!"  '"^  «-« 
•ome  chmci;  but  as  it » •-  ^'  ^?"  '»'e'«  stand 

Ittia  Trao-Iian  shook  her  aub„„.  ■    ,  ' 

«  "'"T;  girhsh.  thought,:^  w™  ""*'"'  ""•  '"^'■«<«-*ch 

*»«",  I II  remedy  alj  that     rii       ^       . 
^  d^.  acd  ru  rLJ::^  Zvlt  ■"""  ''^'»-' 
*»»  Au»t  CJbloe,  th.  6bok   J I        '^'^  "^  """Bon, 

"But  then,  fbpr  „™,,,  .       ,      * 
»d.our^e,'Jen„rr:r,:^'  ^T'  ^°"  ^^^  »A 

^    ^»^>»'e««»ndpap.arver„?r      No,.i,,ft,^( 
««•  Tre^Iian-such  !Z^JZ   *       ""''  "*  ""^  ^ 


'  y^^  perceive  I  can't ' 


'.^f 


/ 


,#ii 


beof  tl 


^J^«ii-  ij: 


f 


.  .> 


V„  . 


SS.       '  '     J 

.V  1 

dpapahas-hiimeet 

>ke,  mylair'couain. 
1"         ^        ^ 

lad^,    coquettUh]^.\ 
t  mind  me  telling 

'ian,  taking  a  seat 
SybilIa,^ou  Jiave 
«  a  splendid  hus- 
5  only  skin  deep." 
^rpu  had  liack 
cjan  nose,  and  a 
J'?^  might  stand 

1  feughed— such 


^ttle  of  patent 
se  to  mention, 
on,  our  s^tefy 

* 

ou  khow  it  la^ 
'%  in  the  waj 
^o,  sir,  it. won't 
:  be  Mrs.  Eq^ 


r/«  VIRCmU  HRtRESS. 


H 


'  "Alasl  that  nly  cruel  de^ffiy  should  send  me  into  the  world 
with  a  snub  nos<^;  hut  don't  da  anything  rash,  Miss  Tresylian. 
I  imfwove  vastly  on  acquaintance — upon  my  wor4  I  do!"    > '  ~ 
^SybmpI   Sybilla  I'^-  called  a  voice.     "Where  is  the  child? 
Come  into  the  house  andjir^"  * 


andp^r 


I  can't* 


/ 


Sybilla  started  up. 

•'.There,  don't  you  hear  Miss  Waldron  calling?  ^Cwoe,  Eus- 
tace." . 

The  pretty  coquette  pushed  her  hand  through  his  arm  aiid 
started  wiflj  him  toward  the  house.    The  young  man  shot  a" 
piercing,  sidelong  look  a^the  lady,  as  if  he  would  read  ^khat/ 
lay  under  that  sparlclingf  silly  ^urface.     But  she  was  off  ata 
new  tangent,  telling  him  all  about  the  slowness  of  life,  and  iht 
stupidity  of  things  in  general )tt.  Tresylian  Hall.     She  was  an., 
irj^eterate  chatter-box,  and  had  been  ever  sinoe  the  days  when  >^ 
sh^  gossiped  to  hfrdoUsT)y  the  hour.  .     -  y 

,    "Well,  Sybilla,"  EUstace  satd,  when  she  paused,  br«nhless, 

"all  this  shall  be  remedied.     When  we  get  married  I " 

^ " But  we  won'/  get  married, "  cried  Sybilla,  shrilly.  "I  never, 
could  bear  feir  men,  with  wishy-washy  ^mplexions  and  ftir 
eyes."  '  ^ 

-"SybUU,  don't  be  ihexorable?"   I  shall  break  my  heart  1" ' 
"Of  course,  you  will !    i  should  be  shocked  and  disappoint- 
ed  if  you  did  not  I    But  don't  you  and  grandiapa  go  talking  to^ 
'16  mv%ie  meljSto  an  engagement,  hecause  it  will  nS^ 
ute:'    i\et  grandpapa  go-«n' before  jrou  ckme—  * 


r: 


'\ 


"C^M 


"2? 


■<u 


>f,  '.  Mw-^yKJii",,* 


X44£fc,f^^jr5tI.«-Si,'«Wl,"   4M»V**^-S*  "*    .iTi^vifjtt^i 


i  /t^.T.'  i  ■,^ui'},',Al    »tt»>k4!  2.-1 


t 


\   .^- 


1 1 


••*^-.><v^^ 


16 


THE  VlRGmu  ffEinESS. 


J 


matter  at  once,    I  suppose  grand  nana  will  h«  ^-         • 

*t^  J  Id  t  r""""  *'  "'"="'  ""•>■"« "-  >-*  -  d 

al  ~'"*  "'  "'*  "*  ""^-^  '"iaing  .,«  to  hi, 

"Nothing  of  the  sort.     Because  vour  nam-  k 

""»,  my  dear  Sybilh-jost  uke  dm.  and  ij^^^^. 

They  were  ascending  the  steps  of  the  house  hv  thi-  r 
•"«*""  ""•di-nbin*  row  tniltog  over  it  ""*»"* 


'ThiitH 


!«.«.  ,:**!^^'''  SJ"-"!,."  Ea«.«  T«r,i„  «id,  fli™. 


J 


*'^>:  ^&p^^-r---CXr-i!i:z:r' 


V  "  t  y* 


\t^^  .*  'V'/ 


^^fw 


go  on  about  you,  b( 
ched  you  Up  and  im 
»d  straightened  you 
puts  an  end  to  the 
t)e  disappointed,  and 
It  it  can't  be  helped 
^'ou  for,  Cousin  Eus- 
ing  her  hands  round 
shining  eyes  in  his 


l^t  .y,..  -,.^^x*,r  ^ 


^^♦*»-,- 


ow  in  the  nniveree 


«ne  happens  to, be 
I  name  to  keep  to- 

M»;  "how  can  yon 
s  so  dreadfully  reso- 
draw  me  ou^  and 
bxget  all  about  my 
the  happiest  pair 

«  by  this  time,  a 
undred  years  old 
the  building;  with 


T/I£  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS, 


It 


heart,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  and  dorit  be  so  frightfully  Jn- 
flexible." 

' '  It's  of  no  use, "  Miss  Tresylian  replied,  seriously.  * '  Think- 
ing of  your  blighted  hopes,  your  broken  heart,  and  all  that 
sort  of  thing,"  mimicking  hi&tone,  "won't  improve  those  feat- 
ures of  yours,  nor  make  you  one  bit  like  Edgar  Ravenswood, 
or  Zanoni,  or  the  Corsair.  Uj^uld  like  to  have  married  Jhe 
Corsair,  1  think,  or  Count  iHra,  or  Claude  Duval— aiiything 
but  a  lawyer  with  cropped  hair  and  yellow  whiskers." 

She  ran  into  the  hall  as  she  spoke  and  flew  up  stairs.  Mr. 
Tresylian,  lingering  on  the  piazza,  heard  her  singing  clearly  and 

sweetly  as  she  went : 

'<  Tell  me  not  of  your  soft  sighing  lover. 
Such  things  may  be  had  by.tfae  KxaOp. 
I'd  rather  be  bride  to  a  rover,  ^ 

And  polish  the  rifle  he  bore."  ';. 


>  '^1 


,     t'\ 


-  i: 


i 


''i^i  I 


sylian  said,  fling- 
op«V  my  broken 


A^-    -\....i,.^ J^i''^   .-;'(..•»»    -     ^V*.. 


■'  -V'i^ 


[, 


.•  ! 


X8 


TffE  fVJiG/J)^Ai  £r£/Jl£sS. 


CHAPTER  11 

MK.     EUSTACE    TRESTLLIW. 

Mr  at  fte  crysul  moon.     He  ^  Tj      '  '"'"^  *■»«'"- 
Which  he  and  hi,  «,«„  had  irb^^Tl*     '^'  ""**««  "f 

maniagewa,  r^Ur  a  matter  of  vi^„  "  '■"*''™'  *» 

husband  of  Mi«  Tr^,^^  .heh^^  X^"  -^  "'■»•    .^e 
order  of  being  fiom  the  araffitor^f"""""  *«■«■« 

'.^^;r;i:s:---«^.hem.nor. 

"«h'.  idol.  na.  sonX^^':;-'*  "  """"^"^ 
wife  of  the  daughter  of  theTnT  !  *"  '°°'  "  '"■^^ 
whose  fortune  swelled  the  al^dvYlf  ""'^  ^•'Si^hciT«^ 

fimilv     T„»  already,  liill  coffeis  of  th,  t ,. 

"miiy.    Two  jwus  after  her  marriam.  .1,  Tnaylian 

*««  7««  later  her  h^bandZT  ??°""*  '*  *«'•  V^ 
four-,..r,M  daughter  u.h^au^^'^  ''^  leaving  hi.  „;«. 
f""  bec^ne  a.e  da,^  cf^!"  ^^    ^"»  «»'  hour  U.. 

"«  «mo8t  jdoJatioaa  irowhip  Of 


-&" 


rtiff£rf:iS('w.'St,^;yJ 


•:''if'«<^':%€fe 


.•  t 


s. 


y«an  lit  a  second 
looked  thought- 
'  that  marriage  of 
•     lightly  as  he 
ennination,  this 
e  to  him.    The 

quite  a  different 
er,  drudging  in 

of  the  manor, 
onlysott^his 
t  to  himself  a 
rinia  heiress— 
the  Tresyiian     ' 
wfe  died,  and 
'ng  his  liiue 
that  hour  the 


■  f' 


'w/iian'g  lii^ 
8  woiship  of 


THE  VIRCmiA  HEIRESS,  <V 

[thafr  little  flaxen-haired  child.  He  could  hardly  let  her  oui  of 
his  sight  She  sat  with  him  in  snowy  pinafores  in  a  high  seat 
at  table,  and  sailed  her  shoes  in  the  soup,  and  washed  her  hands 
in  hock  and  Moselle  unhindered.  She  was  his  companion  in 
all  his  walks,  and  rides,  and  drives;  her  will  was  law,  and  the 
little  toddling  danfsel,  in  short  frocks  and  pantalettes,  ruled  the 
household  as  with  a  rod  of  iron. 

Years  went  by.  Miss  Tiesylian  was  growing  tall,  and  mas- 
ters and  governesses  began  flocking  to  the  hall.  The  mastery 
it  WW  a  noticeable  feet,  were  all  old  and  ugly,  and  married 
men;  and  the  governesses,  the  hardest  and  grimmest  of  old 
maids.  Still,  the  young  lady's  education  was  very  spasmodic 
arid  imperfect,  for  she  was  perpetually  quarreling  with  these  pre- 
ceptors, and  getting  them  dismissed,,  and  commencing  over 
again  under  new  ones.  She  could  leap  a  five-barred  gate  on  an 
Arab  steed  much  better  than  she  could  play  triplfets  and  arp^- 
gios  and  cinque-paced  passages  on  the  grand  piaHo,  and  she 
was  much  more  interested  in  the  adventures  of  Jack  Shepherd 
and  Claude  Duval  than  in  those  of  Telemachus  and  Mentor. 
She  rode,  and  walked^  and  played  billiards  with  grandpapa,  and 
practiced  her  music,  and  played  with  her  pet  dogs,  and  birds^ 
and  rabbits,  and  read  novels  week  in  and  week  out,  and  grew 
up— smd  was  seventeen  years  of  age.  Mr.  Tresylian  did  not 
approve  of  all  those  highly-spiced  romances,  too  strong  for  his 
ind,  but  the  golden-haired 


littiegirl'! 


tyrant 


■<■  il 


dedsively  in  the  matter,  laBwl  would  not  be  interfered  witfi.    OF 
OQVxae^  with  all  these  novels,  and  the  poems  of  Measn.  Shelley, 


^ 


■4''^^-i 


■,  .i;Mi:"^;-s 


m 


I 


-  />{ 


■i>-. 


!    ! 


*»  raCE  VlgcmiA  HMlKBfs. 

eou,^^  and  „a^  ,„d  ^.d  h„  f„,„e  Z^  ^1 

n««i  „a.,.r.>f-^.  Cousin  Eu»u.«.  d,e  nJ;  Y„fk  lawy  " 

^  In.  m.nd  .he  should  be  carried.     He  «,s  „„^  „„„  ^y 

ZeTLtL"'""''"""^'  -««'««q-« proper.     H^ 
ft  her  had  been  a  ve,y  ren«.te  ki„s„,an  of  Mr.  T^uVn's  and 

^  t '"'"»  "'  "^  "  '*"^»  ^"  of  ^  Pe-»i«e«  and 

n.t    r  K      """""*  '*''•  "  "'  "■"«•  -'  -».  of  be- 
«own.g  upon  h,n..hi.  greatest  earthly  tteasu™.    For  ^i,  .he 

^  «...  h^  many  ^„,     Fi„,  hi,  name  was  T«sylian. 

«d  ., «.  of  „tal  moment  to  pe^^tuate  that  name.  J^^ 

«pthe,r  ancient  race ;  «condly.  married  to  Eustace,  hi.  darUng 

«ed  ne«r  lea,e  him.    She  might  many».me  fo«ign  gand«> 

. » true  bnt  then  .he  would  be  lost  to  him  fo,«er!!^b!"t; 

^  ""'^' '»"■"'  ^  -^  %H  ye.  it «»,  Wool  ««. 
blood  IS  thicker  than  water.  "^^t  ^« 


f  ^^f^'^^J^SybillaV.emci;  w«i  .cat  to  a,Iu«w. 
•ndpaduatedthew  with  high  honor..    He  had  «orc  thjfti 


.  \-  •«'s 


the  young  lady  wa 
>  the  grand  subjects  oi 
ure  liusband  picturec 
letimes  a  tender  anc 
ed,  like  Ernest  Mai- 
leful,  and  irresistible, 
daring,  splendid,  like 
verj'thing,  but  snub- 
^cvf  York  lawyer, 
grandpapa  had  made 
was  ausm  more  by 
s  quite  proper.  His 
Mr.  Tresylian's,  and, 
of  age  penniless  and 
Id  adopted  an4edu- 
ned  out  well,  of  be- 
sure.  For  this  the 
ame  was  Tresylian, 
>at  name,  and  keep 
Eustace,  his  darling 
ne  foreign  grandee, 

forever-rbome  off 
lirdly,  although  the 
iiiwtu  blood,  4nd 


73K»  mROmiA  HRtRBSS. 


at 


,y*"' 


•ent  to  CoIumbJ*, 
tuul  more  than  fol* 


■A'S^I 


filled  all  his  benefiwtor's  expectations ;  he  had  been  a  model  of 
exemplary  conduct  all  his  life;  he  was  clever,  and  tolerably 
well-looking.  What  more  could  any  girl  desire?  On  more 
than  one  occasion  Mr.  Tresyliin  had  dropped  a  hint  to  SybUla 
that  she  was  to  look  upon  Eustace  as'her  future  husband,  and 
Mistress  SybUla  had  pureed  up  her  rosy  lips,  and  set  her  head 
on  one  side  like  a  defiant  canaiy,  and  made  up  her  mind  to  do 
as  she  liked  about  it  .^'' 

Eustace  Tresylian,  working  away  at  his  profession  in  New 
York,  underetood  all  this  perfectly,  and  appreciated  it  fully;  tut 
he  waited  for  Mr.  Tresylian  to  take  the  initiative.  Two  weeks 
previous  to  his  arrival  at  the  hall,  he  had  received  the  following 

communication  i  .         Trr-^s^^ 

TaistLiAN,  Aug.  5,  i&— . 
My  Dear  Boy— You  must  be  nearly  worked  to  death  in  that 
stifiing  city,  and  badly  in  want  of  a  little  firesh  air-  Come  *nd 
see  uS  if  your  clients  will  permit  you.  The  twenty;;seventh  u 
my  granddaughter's  seventeenth  birthday  (how  time  flies!),  and 
we  shaU  be  delighted  to  have  you  with  us  on  tha^  happy  amu- 
veraaiy,  c 

There  was  very  little  in  this  note  to  the  general -reader,  but  it 
bore  a  marked  significance  to  Eustace.  The  time  had  come  at 
last;  the  little  heiress  was  dawning  into  womanhood,  and  it  was 
time  for  the  siege  to  begia  Others  would  be  there  to  contest 
tiie  pri«6-4e  was  to  be  first  in  the  field.  He  had  not  teen  Mi« 
^"Trlbr  upwards  of  five  years,  but  he  remembered^veiy  well  thr. 
latt  time  he  had  looked  up<^  her.    He  and  Mr.  Treajrlian  were 


*;"&w 


Vr.  ->  t  <i*  •  Vf  tj.^  *'"'  "*■»«=*  i^.*-*'  !^  Uvi 


'i^Sriii 


i^^_^Vi.-*^^JS.' 


-  '1 


/•» 


29 


TJfS  yiRCmiA  SEZRESS. 


^ 


on  the  piam,  and  she  was  seated  on  the  feassr  la™  h./ 
pantaletted  angel  in  white  and  azure  ^  ^"^'  * 

naa  said,  with  his  hand  on  his  shoulder   "nnH 
^  »n  a  very  few  veara  w,ll  k«  *aouiaer,     and 

7  *cw  years,  will  be  your  reward  " 

He  pointed  to  the  little  irirl  with  fK«fl«  , 

tace  repressed  a  strong  desire  to  wh.-,.u      t °T'  ^""^  ^"'-    »8:  rou 


♦o«-  .  i^'wic  aogs  on  the  Rrass  and  l?.,o- 

ace  repressed  a  strong  desi,«  .o  whistle.     It  nev^a  " 
entered  the  old  man's  h«rt  .k,.  i,-  moment 

^^^...dman^sa^l-an^r-r^r- 

HetdZ/:;r:ir;:^:' "" '-  ^'''■" ""  "^"^ 

"hen  he  «„,  al  aid       ''*"«:'-°°'^  »  «'"  ".M  .ban 
mtle  for  all  tr  IL       '         '  "  '"^'"«-     «'  "^  v«T 

"«„ld  be  as  her  affianced  husband      ^""'•"*  T'''^""" 

lining  against  the  vihe-wreathed  Dinar  rf,i„    ■ 
the  twinkling  sta«  cam.  out.  the  1^7  "^  **  "^^  FM« 


eado^ 
id  th 
imbra 
ingyli 

AttI 


Id  ma 
osty, 

"I 

ud,  " 

indersi 

East 
,nd  th< 
brief 
s  imp 

"W 
ength, 

"Oi 
)y  the 
n  her. 
hat,  si 

"Y( 

"Ui 

"Y 
^iieKi 


>• 


iSS. 


drassjr  lawn  below,  a 


rim  vTRGimA  heiress. 


n 


•een  a  boy,  Eustace," 
'  his  shoulder,  "and 
•d." 

en  curls  playing  with 
the  grass,  and  Eus- 

never  for  a  moment 
f  could  be  anything 
stace  had  no  obje(»- 
marked,  the  heirei 
aspeakably  accepti 
pretty,  and  he  had 
his  gratitude  most 

5  claim  his  bride, 
a  toller  child  than 
?•     He  cared  very 
:k  of  good  looks, 
Eustace  Xresylian 
»»  themselves,  and 
lertoke.     Let  her 
he  left  Tresylian 


Ae 


piazza,  while 


imoked  hia^ 


eadows,  the  rich  fields,  the  dark  woods,  the  stately  old  house, 
id  thought  how  much  better  all  this  was,  even  with  the  in- 
imbrance  of  a  silly  little  wife,  than  plodding  on  forever  in  that 
ingy  law-office,  among  troublesome  clients  and  more  trouble- 
)m^  creditors. 

At  that  moment  a  hand  dropped  on  his  shoulder,  and,  look- 
ig  round,  Eustace  saw  Mr.  Tre^lian — a  tall,  spare,  ifrtiite-haired 
Id  man,  who  looked  like  a  French  marquis  of  the  old  regime-^ 
osty,  but  kindly.      -  y^^~^  Q 

"I  want  to  have  a  talk  with  you,  Eustoce,"  Mr.  Tresylian 
lid,  "before  our  guests  arrive.  We  may  as  well  come  to  an 
inderstanding  at  once."  -  S 

Eustoce  threw  away  his  cigar,  linked  his  arm  in  the  oldjman's, 
nd  the  two  paced  slowly  up  and  down  the  piazza.     There  was 
brief  silence.     Mr.  Tresylian  looked  slightly  at  a  loss,  Eustoce 
s  impenetrable  as  if  his  hot  were  a  waxen  mask.  / 

"What  do  you  think  of  Sybilla?"  Mr.  Tresylian  asked  at 
ength,  very  abruptly.     "Do  you  find  her  greatly  changedl?" 

"On,  the  contrary,"  replied  the  young  man,  "I  was  struck 
)y  the  slightness  of  the  alterations  the  last  five  years  have  made 
n  her.     She  is  toller,  and  even  prettier,  I  think ;  but,  beyond- 
hat,  she  is  the  same  artless  Sybilla  of  five  years  a^o." 

"You  think  her  pretty,  then?"  / 

"Undoubtedly,  as  every  one  must"      /  / 

"  YouTused  to  be  fond  of  her  as  a  bq^"  said  Mr.  Tresylian, 


on  the  swelling 


damsels  of 


SfelSsTy ;  "how  B  It  now?    Have^^he  dashiag .-  - 

New  York  driven  your  little  cousin's  Image  fixwa  your  mind  ?" 


V 


'  /^  *-*■'' '  ^  '\- 


.■<■ 


'1' ■■» 


i 


M  I, 


K" 


'If*' 


«4, 


3%^  riRCmiA  ttElRESS. 


An  almost  imperceptible  smile  dawned  and  feded  on  the  Ac, 
of  Eustace.  -    ^'. 

'  By  no  means,  sir.     The  dashing  damsels  of  New  York  an 
^g  to  me,  nor  I  to  them,  and  I  am  as  fond  of  my  pretti 
little  cousin, AS  ever  I  was."  '   * 

"  Fond  enough  to  many  her  ?" 

Mr.  Eustace  Tresylian  looked  at  his  benefector  with  an  ex 
pression  of  surprise  that  was  veiy  well  got  up  indeed. 

"My  dear  sir!  Marry  Sybillal  Do  I  understand  you 
aright?" 

"  To  be  sure  you  do  I"  testily.  "  Is  there  anything  so  veiy 
preposterous  in  the  idea,  that  you  stand  there  the  pictuit  of  as- 
tonishment?"        .  , 

"No,"  said  Ristace,  slowly  and  thoughtfully.  "No,  Mr 
Tresylian ;  it  is  only  the  suddenness  and  unekpectedness  of—" 

"  Unexpectedness  I  What  the  duse  is  the  fellow  talking 
about?  Didn't  I  tell  you  five  yea«  ago  to  be  as  exemplary  a 
man  as  you  were  a  boy,  and  sJi^  should  be  your  reward  ?  Stuff 
and  nonsense!  Don't  pretend  you  have  foigottenl  I  won't 
believe  it" 

"Ihave  not  foigotten,"said  Eustace,  quietly;  "butlsup- 
posed  you  had.  Believe  me,  Mr.  Tresylian,  I  am  fuUy  sensi- 
ble of  a/7  your  great  kindness-this  last  and  greatest  particu- 
larly.    At  the  same  time " 

'/You  beg  to  decline.     Is  that  it?"  interrupted  Mr.  Tresyl- 
.ABt  haughtily^  steppingrghort     "Out^wotrit 


'  Yes,  ar  I"  said  Eustace,  firmly,  "  unless  my  Cousin  Sybilla 


y^i&gjLj^ 


,,<  w-i 


Suh^i 


V 


ESS. 

1  and  fiuled  on  the  &ct 

isels  of  Ne\«r  York  ar 
as  fond  of  my  prett) 


)ene&ctor  with  an  ex 

up  indeed. 

0  I  understand  you 

lere  anything  so  very 
ere  the  picture  of  as- 

:htfully.  "No,  Mr. 
ekpectedness  of — -" 
i  the  fellow  talking 
0  teas  ezemplaiy  a 
your  reward  ?  Stuflf 
foigotten  I    I  won't 


uietly;  "butlsup- 
n,  lam  fully  sensi- 
ad  greatest  particu- 

■rupted  Mr.  Tre^I- 

Tt^—- — --— 7"^^ 
I  my  Cousin  Sybilla 


TffE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


»5 


herself  is  ijerfectly  willing.    Understand  me,  my' best  friend, 
Sybilla  is,  as  she  has  always  been,  very  dear  to  me,  and  nothing 
would  make  me  so  happy  as  to  call  her  wife— my  whole  life 
would  be  devoted  to  her.     But  without  her  free  and  full  con- 
sent, I  cannot,  I  will  not,  marry  her  1"  \ 
Mr.  Tresylian  grasped  the  young  man's  hand  cordially. 
.♦•My  dear  boy,  you  speak  nobly ,  your  sentiments  are  worthy 
of  you.     I  know  Sybilla  will  be  happy  with  you.     I  know  you 
will  devote  your  whole  life  to  making  her  happy.     If  1  thought 
Otherwise,  I  would  see  her  in  her  grave  sooner  than  wedded  to 
you  1    She  shall  consent" 
•'  But  without  coercion,  sir  ?" 

«'  Of  course.     I  love  my  darling  too  well  to  force  her  to  any- 
thing, even  for  her  own  good." 
There  was  a  brief  silence.     Then — 
"You  are  certain  her  affections  are  disengaged  ?" 
"Quite  certain^    How  could  it  be  otherwise  ?    She  has  been, 
reared  up  here  in  Eastern  seclusion,  going  no  where  scarcely, 
and  receiving  no  visitors.     Except  the  heroes  of  her  pet  novels, 
Miss  Tresylian  is  in  love  with  no  one."  '  ' 

Eustace  smiled,  but  grew  grave  again  almost  instantly. 
"I  hardly  know  how  to  thank  you.     My  obligations  to  you 
are  so  many  and  so  heavy,  that  any  thanks  I  could  oflFer  would 
be  totally  inadequate.    I  know  how  many  fer  more  worthy 
^onldJ)e jonly,Jb«u;ha  to  hMrjQff^.JeiWW  of  Tresylian 


HalL' 


"PrtcMy/saidMr.  Tresylian,  dxyly;  "the  Aarwo/Jh^ 


-#* 


•'^^P 


*l!" 
*. 


t-- 


.V, 


Si 
'J'- 

t  . 


li 


s6 


to 

,.1 


..^' 


r/K  VIRGINTA  HEIRE^. 


sy/ixn  Baa  will  have  no  lack  of  suitora;  but  I  don't- choose  to 
have  her  fell  a  prey  to  some  designing  fortune-hunter  with  a 
Grecian  nose  and  empty  pociet  It  is  because  shfe  is  heiress  of 
Tresylian  Hall  that  I  want  you  to  be  first  in  the  field-it  is  for 
that  I  sent  for  you  this  time.  She  is  veiy  young  yet-only  sev- 
enteen-but  quite  old  enough  to  form  an  engagement  that  will 
keep  others  at  bay.  As  soon  as  you  please,  after  the  comple- 
tion of  her  eighteenth  birthday,  she  shall  be  yow  wife." 

Eustacft  tresylian  grasped  the  old  man's  hand,  really  agi- 
tated. ,  '        /  -« 

"You  overpower  me.     I  .a«««/ thank  you.     As  Heaven 
heais  me,  I  shall  never  give  you  occasion  to  repent  your  confi- 
dence." ^ 

"  I  believe  you.  my  boy.     And  now  our  friends  are  begin- 
ning to  arrive,  and  r  must  leave  you.    The  reSt  is  in  your  own 
,  hands.     SybiUa's  heart  is  free,  and  you  are  a  clever  fellow,  and 
have  a  lawyer's  tongue.     And  you  know  what  Shakespeare 

"  TTie  man  that  hath  a  tongue,  I  say  fa  no  m«a, 
If  with  that  tongue  he  cannot  win  a  woman." 

Two  ca^ages  rolled  up  the  tiee-shaded  avenue  in  the  misty 
moonlight,  and  dropping  the  young^man's  arm,  with  a  signifi- 
cant smile,  the  lord  of  Tresylian  Hall  walked  courteoiisly  for- 
ward  IP  wecome  his  gu^ls.  '    „ 


rhcV.^ 
liant 
ere  \« 
prel 
/  hac 
ting 
.rklin 
ber  J 
yspr 
Itlio 
iles^ 


Mr.  ] 
tehee 
tterfl; 
;k  to 
itime 


wai 
the  ' 


'^^^■* 


»»    kt^* 


■  ilfflrrff-t- 


"a»< 


/-'» 


w^^>fm-i\ 


t^a. 


but  I  don't- choose  to 
fortune-hunter  with  a 
cause  shfe  is  heiress  of 
in  the  field—it  is  for 
young  yet— only  sev- 
engagement  that  will 
we,  after  the  comple- 
•eyoi^wife." 
a's  hand,  really  agi- 


riA  HEIJiESS. 

r 


»7 


>< 


t  you.  As  Heaven 
to  repent  your  confi- 

ir  friends  ^  begin- 
e  rcit  is  in  your  own 
a  clever  felloe,  and 
r  what  Shakespeare 

DO  man,  j 

roman." 

avenne  in  the  misty 

arm,  with  a  signifi- 

:ed  courteOpslyibr- 


CHAPTER  IIL 


THB  COURSE  OF  TRUE  LOVE. 


I» 


^ 


■# 


>f-H 


t 


•  '!3..»^"'j't<t.s*iiV5i,  li^!^^  1  iK,?\(5ii.i^& 


•-;/ 


rheVlong  drawing-room  at  Tresylian,  usually  so  quiet,  wa« 
liant  that  evening  with  wax  lights,  flowers;  and  pretty  girls, 
ere  were  about  a  score  of  young  ladies  present,  all  more  or 
pretty,  but  not  one  prettier  than  the  little  heiress  whose/* 
y  had  cw^e  to  celebrate.  Dressed  in  pale  pink,  filmy  and 
.ting  like\a  rosy  cloud,  with  ribbons  fluttering  and  jewels 
rkling  about  her,  and  all  her  bright,  pretty  curls  dropping  in 
ber  glory  to  her  waist,  Miss  tresylian  was  charming  as  some 
y  sprite.  Here,  there,  and  everywhere  that  slenji«r  pink  figure, 
i  tBose  long,  light  ringletslhishedr^  the  rosy  fece  radiant  with 
iles*  and  flushed  with  excitement— 

"  Queen-rose  pf  the  rosebud-garden  of  girls."  ' 
Mr.  Eustace  Tresylian  leaned  against  a  marble  coin  An,  and 
tched  her  tripping  hither  and  thither  like  some  l?right-winged 
ttei^y,  and  thought,,  after  all,  it  would  not  be  much  of  a  draw- 
:k  to  take  the  estate  with  this  incumbrance.  He  was  not  a 
itimental.  nor  even  a  susceptible,  young  man  by  any  meaiis, 
d^srasveiylikely  to  pasTThrough  life  with  bat  a \axf 
the  "grande  passion."    He  was  not  the  least  bit  ^dazzled,  nw 


#- 


\ 


"■% 


■;v= 


-T?**?- 


'm 


•m 


K.\'^f-''^r:M'Wi: 


"\r^  ^^-.^a 


.f 


n 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


the  slightest  degree  in  love  with  his  bewitching  little  cousin  i\ 
he  was  very  well  satisfied  to  marry  her,  and  be  a  good 
ful,  and  even  affectioiiat^,  husband,  as  husbands  gp.  J 
train  her  u[)  to  his- own,  standard  of  «'hata^.«Q^ 
should  be.  which  was  not  very  high;  fur  ^55|iB^esyliaah 
no  idea  of  female  intellect,  and  shrugged  his  shoui'dersatlit 
ary  ladies  as  unnatural  and  monstrous  creatures,  to  be  avoid 
and  put  down  by  lordly  man.    .She  was  silly  and  sentiment 
but  he  would  smooth  all  that  out  of  her  presently  with  ih       .. 
moral  flat-irt)n  called  common  sense;  and  she  would  give  , 
Dickens  and  Tennvisnn  fnr  Bh.rt-K.,f»;, .- j     .      .;    «   '^*'" 


Dickens  and  Tennyson  for  shirt-button  sewing  and  attending^ 
^e  ^a^itjpf  her  lord  and  master: 

Ei^^  Tresylian  had  the  honor  of  the  firsts  dance  with  tl 
heiress,  to  the  disappointment  of  half  a  dozen  competitors. 
was  the  only  quadrille  she  danced  with  him,  but  she  favore 
him  with  a  waltz.  She  wasa  charming  waltzer,  and  passioi 
ately  fond  of  it.  and  when  it  was  over  and  she  was  fanning  he 
self,  with  Eustace  playing  the  devpted,  Mr.  Tresylian  approache 
th,em.  •  ^  ^ 

"Eustace."  he  said,  "I  ^^^^m would  ask  Eleanor  to  dano 
-Bh«  i^o^ther  neglected.    HfflMthere  intk^^csi^ 


■window." 

Eustace  departed,  and  sTbiilT  looked  up  at  her  gnuul&th 
with  sparkling  eyes. 

'Oh,  grandpapa,  how  nice  this  is  I    How  I  do  love  picas 
twi^niy " " 


<«< 


ly  came  everfiiight  I" 


— "Foolish  chUd  I  by  and  by  you  will  wis^i|,^Bly  oamt  one 


:«**:/' *:*,*• 


x 


^.OSV ' 


■,■  -(,1^ 


ny « 

rov 
(( 

ing. 


wal 

1 

at  a 

ott 

wit 

no] 

Kei 

wii 

sel 

to 
W 
in 


S 


r"    . 


^  'i 


7 


•3L 


>■  %• 


> "". 


/ 


ivifcliing  little  cousin  i,, 
,  and  be  a  good 
hysbands  go.  / 
what^a^M-Qi^ 

"•■  ^«S^^^csylian, 
ged  his  shpurdersatiiti 
I  creatures,  to  be  avoid 
•as  silly  and  sentiment; 
f  her  pr«ently  with  l\ 
;  and  she  would  give  , 
I  sewing  and  attending 


Tff£  VIRCmiA  HEIRESS. 


•9 


"  the  firstdante  with  tl 
a  dozen  competitors, 
th  him,  but  she  iavon 
ng  waltzer,  and  passior 
md  she  was  fanning  he 
4r.  Tresylian  approache 

lid  ask  Eleanor  todanc 
there  ini||MM:es^oflh 

d  up  at  her  grand&th 


How  I  do  love  jdcas 
ightr         ^— — ) 


wi8^%OBl7  ount  one 


itpe  yeara;   it  is  always  th?  way  with  ladi«».     But, 'Sy- 


•-Yes,  grandpapa.' 
.  - 1  want  you  to  d^me  a  favor.     Don't  waltz  or  polka  with  . 
ny  of  these  young  men.  except.  Whaps.  Eustace.     I  don't  ap- 

iroveofit— it  isn't  modest"      ^ 
..  It's  modest  with  Eustax^,  I  'suppose  I"  said  SybUla,  pg^ 

"^'«  With  Eustace  it  is  quite  another  thing ;  waltz  with  hiim^  if' 

roudhoose,  but  with  no  other."  ,,   v'.  ,* 

-Very  well,  thdn,"  said  Miss  Tresylian,  spiritedly,  "I  sha^t 

walteatall."  -^     ►™i*. 

The  young  lady  kept  her  word.     She  not  only  did  hot  waits 
atall  but  she  declined  dancing  with  Eustace  for  the  remainder 
ot  the  evening.     She  was  engaged  for  every  dance,  she  told  him,  / 
with  a  willful  little  pout ;  she  could  not  allow  herself  to  be  in^ 
nopolized  by  him;  she,  the  belle  of  the  1^11.  and  so  many^K'^r 
gentlemen,  a  thousand  times  handsomer  than  he.  dying  townee 
with  her.     She  wished  he  would  let  her  alone  and  devote  him- 
self  to  some  one  els^Miss  Eleanor  Waldron,  for  ins^nce.      ^  • 
Cousin  Eustance  obeye^  very  quietly,  and  did  deyote  hipself 
to  Miss  Waldron  with  con§ideiable  mprtssmmt.  w1u(*  M«. 
W.  estimated  at  its  proper  worth.    She  -- ^  f '  ^'«^;^^- 
ing  girl,  three  years  older  |han  SybiUa,  witl.a  fi,edl/-pale  fece, 
^;.ldly^righ.  bU.  eyes,  an^brayd  dar^  ^ 


Dtiynt.  coiuiy'»"g"'^> --I^-^:  ' _  i,^^.u   XXms. 

=^=^lfi;^ter  of  Mr.  Tresyian^  ncm8ekerpcx.^4I*^. 

fclhcr  l«id  been  the  Episcopal  minister  of  Taunton,  the  nearest 


5  •*  ^  X     J 


I 


N^eJ 


3© 


THE  VIRQINIA  HEIRSSS. 


mtei 
reg 


village  and  intimate  friend  of  Ae  'squire.    At  his  death  hi,  wid 
ow  gladly  accepted  the  post  of  housekeeper  at  Tresj-lian  an<  '  "^ 
ever  smce,  some  eight  years,  with  her  daughter  Eleanor!  ha<  '»«)' 
«s,ded«  the  hall,  treated  more  as  an  ionored  guest  than  „  '  ' 
dependent  ~ 

Eleanor  Waldron  and  Sybilla  Tresylian  were  not  very  good  ^' <^1 
fnends.     Sybilla  could  not  pour  inta  the  ear  of  a  marble  statue  »«  ° 
fter  gushing  raptures  over  the  compositions  of  Shelley  and  Owen   ^^te. 
Meredith.     Miss  Waldron  never  wasted  her  time  reading  novels   °""« 
or  poeto' ;  she  improved  her  mind.     Sybilla's  master,  and  gov- 
ernesses were  also  hers,  and  thewotds  of  vvisdom  that  went  in 
one  of  the  little  ears  of  the  foolish,  heire^  and  came  out  of  the 
other  were  carefully  treasured  up  by  the  little  housekeeper's 
daughter.     She  practiced  her  music  for  hours  daily,  until  she 
became  a  brilliant  pianist ;  she  spoke  French  as  fluently  as  En- 
ghsh,  while  Sybilla  just  knew  enough  of  that  language  to  read 
romances  she  had  better  left  unread.     She  was  perfect  in  bot- 
any,  and  astrorjomy,  and  geblogy,  and  rhetoric,  and  had  the 
historyof  every  nation  under  heaven  at  her  finger  erids.  since 
the  da,s  of  t^e  flood.     M.^Tresylian  knew  a  trifle  of  history. 
She  could  tell  you  about  Sir  William  Wallace,  and  Robert  BrucT 
and  J       ,f  A^  ,„,  c,^,^^^^ ^^^^^^^  ^^^  ^.^.^,,^,^, G,^,; 
and  Mane  Antoinette,  and  Anne  Boleyn,  and  Nell  Gywnne  ani 


chattering  little  dunce,  and  bitterly 


««^  and  hated  her  for  being  what  she  was,  an  h^:;;     Miss 
Tr.^l«n,  on  »h.  other  hand,  held  Mis,  Waldron  in  profound 


ime. 
ich  1 
ame, 
lidn 

for 
aany 
Tctiv 
ou  ^ 
he  \ 
loum 
his  t 

To 
lUth 
:han] 
Elf^tio 
ble.  j 


robec 
with 


'^£SS. 


THB  VIRGINIA  HEIHESS. 


Si 


!.  At  his  death  his  w*d  ^^^^^^P*  ^'^'"  ^®'"  Prosaic  soul,  that  never  soared^ to  the  enchant* 
Jeper  at  Tresylian  a  ^  regions  of  poetry  and  romance,  and  returned  her  hatred  cor- 
daughter  Eleanor'  hac  '*^^^  ^^^  ^^"^  ^"^^^'  ^'"P^^^^^^®  selfishness  and  cold  ingrati- 
lonored  guest  than  as  j  '*^®-    "^^^^  ^^^  quarreled  as  children,  and  Miss  Tresylian,  on 

lore  than  one  occasion,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  had  partially  scalped 
ian  were  not  veiy  good  ^'  opPonent  by  tearing  out  several  fistfuls  of  hair ;  but  latterly 
ear  of  a  marble  statue  "*  "aode  of  warfare  had  ceased,  and  a  sort  of  armed  neutralitj^ 
ns  of  Shelley  and  Owen  "^*®^-  They  were  elaborately  civil  to  each  other,  these  two 
lertime  reading  novels  °""8;  ladies,  and  went  on  heartily  detesting  each  other  the 
(ilia's  masters  and  gov-^""®'    ^^  Waldron's  ambition  in  this  life  was  to  capture  a 


\^-isdom  that  went  m 
s  and  came  out  of  the 
e  little  housekeeper's 
bours  daily,  until  she 
rich  as  fluently  as  En- 
that  language  to  read 
be  was  perfect  in  bot- 
betoric,  and  had  the 
er  finger  erids,  since 
ew  a  trifle  of  history, 
e,  and  Robert  Bruce, 
Napoleon  the  Great, 


ich  husband — old  or  young,  handsome  or  ugly,,  it  was  all  the 
ame,  so  that  he  had  the  dimes.  Like  Eustace  Tresylian,  love 
lid  not  enter  into  he^  calculation  at  all— she  wanted  to  marry 

fortune,  that  wassail.  She  was  like  him  in  a  good 
any  other  ways,  and '  she  was  frightfully  sensible  and  se- 
retive,  and,  in  short,  a  model  of  young  womanhood  every  way 
rou  viewed  her.  The  nearest  approach  to  the  tender  passion 
he  had  ever  felt  had  been  for  Eustace,  for  his  cleverness  and 
lound  sense ;  but  no  word,  or  look,  or  action  had  ever  betrayed 
his  to  living  mortal. 

To  this  young  lady  Eustace  Tresylian  paid  marked  attention 
\\  the  remainder  of  the  evening.     lAhe  and  Sybilla  could  have 


ch."  MissWaldron 
^duncc,  and  bitterly 
s,  an  heiress.  Miss 
Caldron  in  profound 


Id  Nell  Gywnne,  and      ^^^^^^^  Peaces,  it  would  have  been  the  greatest  possible  satis- 


ft(&tion  to  the  young  lawyer,  for  stately,  and  learned,  and  sensi- 
uch  jmqre  to  his  fiste  than  that  poor  little  HMnt* 
robed  sentimental  child.     But  t  couldn't  be.    Yet  he  danced 
with  her,  and  talked  to  her^  an    led  her  into  supper,  and  list- 


/  J 


-4.iiiJiiti>  1 


«M 


I;- 


a] 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 

♦ 

,^ned  while  she  played  Mendelssohn's  masterpieces,  and  wo: 
^ered,  if  matches  were  made  in  Heaven,  why  this  tall  girl  w; 
not  an  heiress  and  his  future  wife; 

T»»«««ydawnofanothermomingwasglimmeringinth<?east  ball 
before  the  carriage  of  the  first  departing  guest  rolled  away  from  th  .ek« 

gatesofTresylianHall.    It  bad  been  a  brilliant  success,  this  birth  lei 

night  /./.-eveiy  one  had  enjoyed  himself  or  h«|^f  to  the  ut  ■« y 

m^t-but,  like  all  other  pleasures  of  th^ajife,|t  was  short  ji 

hved,  and  -the  lights  were  fled,  the  garlands  dead,  and  th<  ^', 

banquet-hall  deserted. »    Sybilla's  /./.  was  over,  and  Sybilla  wa,  ,e  \ 

sleeping  on  her  little  white  bed,  her  flushed  cheek  pillowed  oXe, 

her  arm,  and  a  smile  lingering  on  her  lips  still.  W  , 

After  fhia^brilliant  night,  of  course  the  dullness  of  Ti«syliai£ntl 

Hall  became  doubly  dull  from  contrast.     Sybilla  might  havlYei 

gone  melancholy  mad  had  it  not  been  for  Cousin  Eustace  whol  k 

turned  out  to  be  the  most  delightful  of  cousins  and  enterta'ining 

ofcompanipns.     Grandpapa  resigned  in  his  &vor  at  once.     He 

escorted  Mibs  Tresylian  in  all  her  woodland  rambles  •  he  was 

cavalier  wheii  she  mounted  her  Arab  pony  for  a  breery  canter 

over  the  "sacred  soil ;"  he  lay  on  the  grass  at  her  feet  while 

^e  did  little  bits  of  &ncy  work,  and  read  her  fevorite  poets  and! 

novelists  by  the  hour.     He  improved  h,.r  billiard  playipg,  taughtiust, 

her  euchre,  trained  her  dpgs  to  perform  all  manner  of^iittie  dog-fisco 

gish  tricks ;  sang  comic  songs  for  her,  and  was  altogether  tooLw 

charming  to  describe.    !  He  visited  Richmond  once  a  week  forLr 

riweatpreCT  y-  . .     .  w: 


lere 
lind 

S3n 

r  I 
leir 


^^ °       "i:     — "««^  «.»i.umona  once  a  week  for 

theespjess-purpweofljuyinghernewbook^a^^^ 
unwholesome  Fre^h  Candies,  and  ..drove  her  about  in  a  light 


•-■  >.- 


iSjf'ke , 


(i 


in^l 


.......  -r-r'- 


IRESS, 


TSE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


33 


I  masterpieces,  and  wonlon  to  the  four  points  of  the  compass.    He  vn&  never  a^borc, 
en,  why  this  tall  girl  w  J  although  he  talked  perpetually,  he  was  always  entertain- 
>  .He  told  her  of  New  York  life,  of  its  theaters,  its  operas, 

IS  glimmering  in  th?  east  balls,  its  matinees,  its  Broadway  promenade,  until  Sybilla's 
ruest  rolled  away  from  th  eks  glowed  with  longing,  eager  desire  to  see  those  wonders 
rilliantsut^^ess,  this  birth  i  enjoy  those  febulous  delights. 

self  or  h<|^f  totheut    .Veiy  well,  Sybilla,"  Mr.  Tresylian  used  to  say,  "so  y9U^ 
^  th^S  Jif^,  jt  was  short  \\^  my  dear,  when  you  are  my  wife." 
garlands  dead,  and  th<  gj  August  and  September  passed,  and  Paul  and  Virginia  never 

ras  over,  and  Sybilla  wa^  fg  half  so  inseparable  as  Eustace  and  Sybilla.  But  the  end  of 
shed  cheek  pillowed  oXtember  brought  a  letter  from  New  York,  requiring  the  youfig 
Ps  still.  W,^  immediate  return  to  that  city,  and  the  last  day  of  the 

le  dullness  of  TresyliaiXnth  he  started  for  the  Empire  City,  and  Sybilla  was  alone. 
il.  Sybilla  might  hav Jyes,  al(me—o\i  1  dreary  word.  There  was  grandpapa,  whom 
)r  Jpousin  Eustace,  wholg  loved  very  dearly,  but  grandpapa,  as  a  companion,  was  no- 
ousins  and  entertainingEere  after  brilliant  Eustace.  There  was  Mrs.  Waldron,  whose 
his  fevor  at  once.  Heiind  ran  in  a  circle  that  only  comprised  cookery  and  her  daugh- 
iland  rambles ;  he  was   r.     There  was  Eleanor,  about  as  cordial  as  a  statue  of  ice,  and 


•ony  for  a  breezy  cantei 
grass  at  her  feet  while 

I  her  favorite  poets  and 
billiard  playing,  taught 

II  manner  offlittle  dog- 
ind  was  altogether  too 
nond  once  a  week  for 


hook^  and  poynds  of 


I  sympathetic.  There  were  her  dogs,  her  flowers,  her  novels, 
er  piano,  her  fancy  work-very  good  and  pleasant  things  in 
leir  way,  but  vanity  ^d  vexation  of  spirit,  now  that  Cousin 
;ustace  was  gone.  The  heiress  of  all  the  Tresylians  wandered 
isconsolately  about  the  big  rambling  old  mansion,  while  the 
low  hours  dragged  themselves  away,  and  wondered  how  she  had 
>ver  endured  this  sort  of  Ufe  before  Eustace  came. 


"ImustbeinlovewUh  him,"  thought  Miss  Tresylisn;^ 


\^ 


'i 


'*J 


'""*••*"«  H"v"«»  "«  I     "1  must  DC  m  lovc  wiiu  miu«,    vuv-e"-  •'-•— j—  •    * 

her  about  in  a  light  line  to  blush  at  the  idea,  and  fiuling.     "This  is  the  way  all  the 

\  1  * 


■|1 


.   cjt^ 


»Y*».-v;,^ 


^ 


.\  . 

\ 
\ 
\ 


n.,^ 


34 


TffS  VIRGINTA  HEIRESS. 


heroines  of  my  novels  felt  when  their  lovers  left  them.     I 
see  why  I  shouldn't  many  Eustace,  after  all.     He  isn't  ha 
some,  poor  fellow;  but  then  there  was  Mr.  Rochester,  andl 
.how  fond  Jane  Eyre  was  of  him  !     He  is  delightful  to  talk] 
and  he  will  take  me  traveling  all  over  the  world— to  Paris, 
Italy,  and  Germany,  and  all  those  charming,  romantic  plj 
I  have  been  reading  of  so  long.     Then,  when  we  (^me  back  i 
live  in  New  York,  I  shall  go  into  society,  and  L  to  ball? : 
the  opera,  in  ruby  velvet  and  diamonds,  and  oh/goodness, 
cious  roe  j  perhaps  I  shall  get  acquainted  wit  J  poets,  and 
thors,  and  artists,  and  sculptors— and  won't  W/ be  delightful 
Sybilla  Tresylian  pondered  over  this  matte/a  good  deal  dl 
ing  her  cousin's  absence,  and  quite  made  up  hL  mind  "that  J 
way  duty  lay."    Grandpapa  saw  it  all.  and  ihuckled  inwar] 
at  the  success  of  his  plans,  and  wrote  t<iEu^ce,  sub  rasa,  to 
turn  at  once. 

"  She's  yours,  my  boy."  wrote  the  old  g^tleman ;  "so  str 
While  the  iron's  hot  Come  back  at  Lee  and 'claim  vc 
bride."  '  '  ■ 

A  week  after  the  receipt  of  this  letter, /feustace  Tresylian 
back  at  the  old  hall,  laden  with  presents  L  Sybilla-all  mam. 
of  new  and  enchanUng  things.     Brown  bctober  was  glowing 
self  out  in  the  woods,  and  the  mornin  J  after  his  arrival  he  aJ 
Sybilla  set  off  for  a  ramble  among  its  liafy  arcades.  •    ] 

How  pretty  she  looked  that  sunny  (October  morning,  her  bl 


T^^w^iRrgoldercOTls^rtfering  in  lHFrresTi,"^eet  breez«  tj 
rose-flush  on  her  cheek,  and  that  sparkling,  happy,  hope; 


'A; 


HEIRESS. 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


35 


It  in  her  eyes.  Poor  little  Sybilla  !  it  came  back  to  him  so 
n  afterward  with  a  pang  of  nameless  pain.  He  had  grown 
y  fond  of  her,  in  a  tender,  brotherly  sort  of  way,  and  he 
ant  to  be  very  good  to  her  when  she  was  lys  wife ;  but  for 
t  love— deep,  undying,  and  self-sacrificing — that  makes  mar- 
charming,  romantic  ph  ^^  ^^^'^  *'-^'  "^'^^^'  "^^  '^^  ^^""^  -"^^^^''^  ""^  '*' 

ItroUing  about  in  those  green  woodland  aisles,  with  the  birds 

ing  in  the  branches,  the  squirrels  hopping  around  thenT, 

solemn  hush  of  country,  peace  everywhere,  Eustace  Tresyl- 

asked  her  to  marry  hitn.     Not  lightly  and  jocosely  this  time, 

>n  her  birthday,  but  earnestly,  and  pleading  quite  as  roman- 

Uy  as  Ernest  Maltraveis  could  have  done.     He  did  not  feel 

le  expressed,  to  be  sure,  but  how  was  Sybilla  to  know  that, 

he  listened  complacently,  feeling  she  was  to  be  a  heroine  at 

?    And,  when  he  had  finished,  she  fluttered  out  "yes,"  po»- 

herself  like  Juliet  in  the  garden,  and  went  home  through 

October  sunshine  pledged  to  become  his  wife, .  .      - 

jrandpapa  was  ecstatic*    All  his  visions  were  realized ;  he 

the  happiest  of  men  and  grandparents.     Before  he  let  Sy- 

a  go  that  night,  he  had  coaxed  fi-om  her  a  promise  that  she 

uld  become  Mrs.  Eustace  Tresylian  on  her  eighteenth  blrth- 


ir  lovers  left  them.     I  d 
i,  after  all.     He  isn't  hi 
vas  Mr.  Rochester,  and 
He  is  delightful  to  talk 
er  the  world— to  Paris,  ; 
charming,  romantic  pi 
en,  when  we  <^ome  back 
society,  and  ^o  to  balls  i 
!ids,  and  ohy  goodness,  { 
ainted  witly  poets^  and 
dwon'tW/bedelightfu 
^is  mattey  a  good  deal  d 
adeuphfermind  "that 
11,  and  /chuckled  inwan 
t^  Eustace,  sub  rosa,  to 

Old  gentleman ;  "so  stri 
at  once  and  claim  yo 


ter, /Eustace  Tresylian  ^» 
Its  for  Sybilla — all  manr 
Ti  /Uctober  was  glowing 
ig  after  his  arrival  he  aiB 
l)eafy  arcades. 
October  morning,  her  bl 


le  fresh,  sweet  breeze,  tl 
iparkling,  happy,  hope] 


^billa  was  a  heroine,  and  enjoyed  the  situation  unspeakably, 
s.  Waldron  kissed  and  congratulated  her,  and  Eleanor 
ched  her  cheek  with  her' icy  lips,  and  hoped  frigidly  she 


old 


^;^8he  swept  from  the  room  she^fe^ 


bridegroom-elect  with  a  lightning  glance  of  scorn  Srom  her 


"<s 


.»■  I»1fc  ij 


tJTE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 

turquois"l>ft[e  eyes<     She  understood  him  and  his  motives, 
he  actuali^r  q^tailed  before  the  passionately-contemptucfus  gla 
of  the  hoiisekeeper's  daughter. 

Mr.  Tresylian  was  determined  the  betrothal  should  be  no 
cret — it  must  be  celebrated  by  ?.  ball  that  would  eclipse 
birthday  fete  altogether.  Invitations  went  out  fiir  and  wit 
the  large,  unused  banqdeting-hall  was  to  be  fitted  up  for  d; 
cing,  and  the  military  band  from  Richmond  engaged.  The  i 
Wednesday  in  November  was  to  be  the  auspicious  night,  a 
half  the  State  was  to  be  oresent 


^ 


■v.-^ 


iffjr 


,ai 

a  i 

wa 

si 

:ai 

ioi 

wh 

)r 

Ie£ 

pr 

fd 

»g 

nis 

St, 

the 
he 


■h 


,-x. 


i; 


miRESS. 

I  him  and  his  motives, 
lately-contemptucfus  gl 


betrothal  should  be  no 
)all  that  would  eclipse 
s  went  out  &r  and  wi( 
iras  to  be  fitted  up  for  di 
hmond  engaged.     The  f 

the  auspicious  night,  a 


TME  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


Z7 


CHAPTER  IV. 


■R.  WAYLANS. 


I 

4». 


isy  days  were  those  at  Tresylian  Hall    Upholsterers  were 
refitting  and  refurnishing,  carpenters  hammered  all  day 
and  up  stafrs  two  dressmikers  sewed  away  as  if  life  depead- 
tt  it     Mr.  Tresylian  was  occupied  in  superintending,  Eus- 
was  busy  riding  to  and  from  Richmond  on  all  sorts  of  er- 
s  for  him  and  Sybilla,  Mrs.  Waldron  was  bus)-,  and  the 
and  her  satellites  trebly  busy,  and  Miss  Tresylian,  in  her 
loir  with  the  dressmakers,  was  hurried  to  death.     The  only 
who  moved  serene  in  the  disturbed  household  was  Miss  El- 
)r  Waldron,  and  she  pursued  the  even  tenor  of  her  way  re- 
less  of  the  "confusion  worse  confounded"  on  every  side, 
practiced  her  five  hours  every  day  on  the  grand  piano  in  the 
f  drawing-room,  undistracted  by  all  the  hammering  and  cl^- 
ig  about  her;  she  pursued  her  German,  and  Italian,  and 
aish  studies  as  quietly  as  ever;  for  slje  wais  a  wonderfiil  Un- 
it, and  she  sallied  forth  efveiy  Afternoon,  armed  with  pencils 
pQrtfnlin,  to  sjtetchgom  nature  in  the  grand  old  pinegogd^ 


"fjS: 


ihet  Med  in  the  grand  object  of  her  life— a  wealthy  marriage 
he  might  find  it  necessary,  one  of  these  days,  to  go  out  as 


^^^Y    'S'-W: 


)»    J^  '*'Si.iJ 


^<ht.  'j 


h-j?^ 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRES^, 

governess,  and  all  these  manifold  accomplishments  would  b  ded 
invaluable  stock  in  trade 

So  November— ominous  month-^dark,  cold,  and  melanch  \ 
came  and  brought  round  the  eventful  night     The  long  row 
pines  and  beeches  around  the  old  mansion  twinkled  with  p  ^i^ 
colored  lamps,  until  all  out-doors  was  like  feiry-land. 
night  was  auspicious,  clear  and  frosty,  with  numberless 
'  cleaving  keen  and  bright  through  the  blue  arch,  and  a  cres 
moon  rising  pale  and  luminous  over  the  misty  hill-tops, 
riage  afte^  carriage  rolled  up  the  long  avenue,  and  the  ill 
nated  rooms  were  filling  fast     Mr.  and  Miss  Tresylian  stooc 
ceiving  their  g«ests,  he  more  like  a  marquis  of  the  old  re^ 
than  ever,  and  she— oh  1  how  lovely  she  was  in  that  rich  w 
silk,  with  pearls  and  emeralds  gleaming  about  her,  and  the  b< 
tiful  ringlets  dropping  in  a  sunny  shower  to  her  taper  w;   « ^^ 
There  was  a  rose-flush  on  her  delicate  cheek,  a  streaming  fir 
her  lai:gc  .yes,  and  a  smile  for  jail  who  came  near  her  that  ni|wa 
her  irresistible.     There  were  far  more  stately  beauties  am 
these  fair  daughters  of  Virginia,  but  not  one  half  so  i&scinat 
Of  course  Eustace  was  by  her  side,  and  of  course  eveiyb 
understood  exactly  how  matters  were,  and  shook  hands  with 
congratulated  him  to  his  heart's  content     How  he  wis  env 


by  at  least  a.  score  ojf  yo^ng  men,  none  but  these  young  n  j^g 


^  knew,  as  they  followed,  with  admiring'  eyes,  the  feiry  figure 
the  bewitchingiittle  heiress. 


Wl 
lo( 
ist: 
Wl 

le  : 
as 
No 
>n. 

e  \ 
s, 


ion 


r. 
as 


etc 


UU! 


Among  the  latest  arrivals  there  was  a  certain  Judge  Har  .g^ 
and  his  £imily,  and  in  their  train  came  a  gentleman  who  co    \gy 


1'- 


.I>-rT, 


HEIRESS. 
complishments  would  b 


, 


al  night  The  long  rov 
lansion  twinkled  with 
}  was  like  &iiy-land. 
3Sty,  with  numberless 
lie  blue  arch,  and  a  ores 
;r  the  misty  hill-tops. 
3ng  avenue,  and  the  ilh 
ind  Miss  Tresylian  stooc 
I  marquis  of  the  old  re^ 
7  she  was  in  that  rich  w 
ng  ahout  her,  and  the  b( 
shower  to  her  taper  w< 
te  cheek,  a  streaming  fir 
10  came  near  her  that  m 
ore  stately  beauties  am 


rffE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


59 


ded  the  attention  of  the  room.     He  was  a  straipger  to  all— 

1.   distinguished-looking  Tt.an  of  thirty  or  more,  with  a 

-dark,  cold,  and  melanch  j^  massive  face  and  head  tiut  cbuldnot  fail  to  attract  at- 

on.     Sybilla,  leaning  on  her  cousin's  arm,  gazed  at  him 
hlessly. 

What  a  splendid  face  that  man  has,  Eustace,'1  she  cried ; 
looks  grand  enough  for  a  king.     Who  can  h«  fee?* 

istace  raised  his  glass.  ;  •< 

Where,  petite  />" 

le  next  instant  he  dropptd  it  with  an  expression  of  the  ut- 
astonishment 

Now  what  the  duse  brings  him  to  Virginia? — the  very  last 
m.  Sybilla,  my  dear,  excuse  me  a  moment,  won't  you?" 
e  was  gone  as  he  spoke — an  instant  later  he  was  shaking 
s,  with  the  greatest  empressement,  with  the  stranger. 
Wayland,  my  dear  old  fellow  1  how  delighted  lam  to  see 
Where  in  the,  worid  did  you  drop  from?  I  should 
not  one  half  so  fiiscinati  )on  have  expected  to  see  the  man  in  the  moon  here  to- 
B,  and  of  course  everyb 

and  shook  hands  with  :   r.  Wayland  smiled.     His  nobl^  &ce  lit  up  with  rare  bright- 
tent     Howhewiasenv    as  he  did  so./  .| 
one  but  these  young  n  Nevertheless,  there  is  nothii^  very  extraordinaiy  in  it     I 

e  to  Richmond  on  a  little  matter  of  business,  two  days  ago, 
n  with  Judge-Harper,  and  accepted  hia  inritetion  to  spend 


Qg'  eyes,  the  fiiiry  figure 


ne  a  gentleman  who  co 


'a. 


as  a  certain  Judge  Har  ,^^  q,  ^wo  at  his  place.     He  insisted  on  my  coming  with 


to-night,  and,  when  I  found  out  I  was  to  meet  you,  I  agreed 


-.Va^;  ■ 


-     t. 


<r>?<.MWi 


f'.'cf-    I V-  1^^ :  FJ  .'^:  I  -H  •;■*!*■ 


T.BB  VTRGIN^A  ^RESS, 


at  on*.     What  a^Iucky  fello;  you  are,  Tresylian.  I  congrJ 
late  you  with  all  my Aeart     Where /g  she  ?" 
"Who?"  did  Eustace,  laughing,  "Sybilla?" 
-'Ah  1  Sybilla  1-^  chanmng^ame.     I  want  to  have  a 
at  her."  .\«. 

"There^he  is,  then-taUt^,^  to  Maiy  Harper  " 
Mr.  Wayland  took  a  pr<^Io^ged  survey.     Presently  he>ur 
to  Eustace,  and  lethis  hand  fSll  o^his  shoulder,  looking 
smilmgly  in  the  fece,  without  speaking. 

*'  Well,"  Eustace  said,  "what  dd  you  think  o^lfer?" 
"What  a  lucky  fellow  you  are,  Tresylian,"  reputed  Mr. 
land.     "She  imperfect  rosebud  I    Present  me." 

He  pa?sed  hiSarm^  through  that  of  Eustace,  and  the  two  I 
proached  the  young  ladies.  - 

Miss  Tresylian  made  a  graceful  courtesy,  and  wished  . 
Wayland  would  ask  her  to  dance,-  but.  as  Mr.  Wayland  ne 
danced,  she  was  destined  to  be  disappointed.     He  stood  by , 
side  talking,  however,  until  Eustace  led  her  away  for  a  wa 
and  how  he  c<mld  talk.     Somehow  very  commonplace  thi( 
souiided  like  blank  verse  from  his  lips.     He  had  a  deep  me 
dious  voice  that  matched  his  fece,  and  in  ten  minutes  he 
read  Sybilla's  sentimental  little  heart  to  the  very  bottom. 

"Well,  Sybilla,  and  how  ^  you  like  my  friend  Waylanq 
Eustace  asked  as,  when  the  waltz  concluded,  they  saunte] 
out  of  the  warm  ball-room. 


„  ^^^  a  pferfecfTove,  Eustace ;  with  such  a  magnificent  fal^' 
you  know,  he  ought  to  be  an  emperor  or  something. "  l'^" 


( 


^,^'.'!(_ll|*«t4t'%?',«'*i»»      Kt'-,t\.'-a     -.^JsA^.V  ^.itv 


'm 


V\ '' 


-% 


;*  ^E/jfjzss. 


JHS  VIRGINIA  HEIItMSS, 


ju  are,  Treaylian^  I  congr; 

ere  )»  she  ?" 

ig,  "Sybilla?" 

lame.     I  want  to  have  a 


41 


^ell  never  get  his  deserts,  then,  I'm  afiaid ;  but  he's  a  re- 
^  .ably  clever  fellow.     Do  you  remember  that  book  I  read 
I,  The  Story  of  Pauline,  and  which  you  liked  so  much  ?" 
['Yes,  ofcouree." 

Wen  Wayland  wrote  te     Yo.  remember  I  told  :^  „ 

time  I  knew  the  author." 

'billa's  eyes  opened  to  their  widest  extent  ^' ■      • 

Oh,  Eustace  I  you  don't  mean  to  say  he  is  an  author?" 

Yes.  I  do;  he  contributes  to  half  a  dozen  joumalsand  mag.: 

les-stories,  poetiy,  biographical  sketches,  etc     But  this  is 

^xXyentre  nous.     Rewrites  overall  sorts  of  signatures,  and 

.......  .„.  -f«-t"owofh^lfteraryprocliviUe8i«,,  in  talking  to  him  . 

:  of  Eustace,  and  the  two|l*""i^e  to  it"^  ^        ™'' 

But^  good  gracious  me,.  Eustace  I  only  to  think-^  ««. 
/  '  Oh,  do  tell  me  all  about  him  1" 

Eustace  laughred  at  her  enthusiasm. 

Thereis  very  litUe  to  tell,  my  dear,  and  tiiat  litUe  the  r^ 
^ofromanUa  Wayland  is  the  only  son  of  a  wealthy  Boston 
^hant,  js  a  lawyer  by  profession,  and,  as  I  said  before,  a  r^ 
^Wycle^r  fellow.  There's  his  whole  history  for  you  in  ar. 
shell,  and  dont  you  ask  any  more  questions  abput  him 
emoiselle,  or  I  shall  1>e  jealous.  Come  and  dance  the 
fwa  with  me." 

iss  Tresylian  found  no  opportunify  to  improve  her  ac- 
[Ptance  with  Mi;  Wayland  duringJtbe  hours  thaHbll 


0  Mary  Harper." 
survey.     Presently  he>H 
op.  his  shoulder,  looking 
ling. 

Id  you  think  oflfer?" 
rresylian."rep<kted  Mr. 
Present  me. 


I  courtesy,  and  wished 
but,  as  Mr.  Wayland  n 
ippointed.     He  stood  ^y 
:e  led  her  away  for  a  wal 
n  very  comitionplace  thi 
lips.     He  had  a  deep,  m 
and  in  ten  minutes  he 
t  to  the  very  bottom. 
I  like  my  friend  Waylan^ 
concluded,  they  sauntei 


'ith  such  a  magnificent  fal 
•or  or  something." 


( 


■^^n  A* 


m  engaged  for  almost  every  dance-there  never  was  such 
ntinng  danoer-and  Mr.  Wayland  was  not  even  in  the  ball- 


^    <"! 


-S 


J-,^.. 


A..:„ 


4f 


THE  ITRGmJA  mAMSSS. 


tt>om  half  the  time.  Once  she  ^caught  sight  of  him  standi] 
talking  40  Eustace,  Itnd  l^ooking  at  her  with  a  half  amused, 
admiring  smile.  Eustace  was  retailing,  no  doubt,  all  the  fbJ 
"  f*  ish  things  she  hr.d  said  of  hira,  and  how  silly  he  mu^  think  'h^ 
•Her  partner  led  her  off,  however,  to  take  her  place  in  the  qud 
rille,  aqd  in  |li^  excitement  of  the  dance  she  forgot  all  about | 
She  only  spdke  to  him  again  when,  in  the  cold  gray  dawn 
thie  November  momioT,  he  approached  to  take  his  leave. 

"I  shajl  have  tli.^  p'nsufe  of  peeing  you  to-morrow, 
Tresylian,"  he  said,  with  that  rare  smile  of  his.     "I  have  sor 
thing  to  tell  you  that,  perhaps,  will  interest  you." 

Sybil  la's  eyes  flew  open ;  but,  before  she  could  speak,  he 
gone.     Others  were  flocking  around  to  say  good-by  to 
pretty  little  hostess,  and  when  it  was  all  over,  and  she  was  up| 
her  room,  she  was  too  tired  even  to  think. 

Rosa,  her  bright  quadroon  maid,  disrobed  her  and  bmsl: 
out  her  pretty  blonde  curls,  and  then  she  was  buried  among 
•  s  downy  pillows  of  her  litde  bed,  tir  ftway  in  the  lovely  land  I 

< 

dreams. 

About  the  middle  of  the  following  afternoon,  Mr.  Wayla 

and  Mr.  Frederick  Harper,  a  dashing  young  Virginian,  ^^| 

had  been  mightily  impressed  the  night  before  with  the  faj 

•  heiress,  arrived.     Miss  Tresylian,  beautifully  dressed,  and 

-  white  rosebuds  in  her  hair,  sat  at  the  piano,  looking  like  a 

ture.     The  slanting  sun  rays,  sinking  westward,  seemed  c\ 


centrated  round  her  sunny  head,  like  the  yellow  aurrole  arou 
the  head  of  ia  pictured  saint     Miss  Waldron  vras  her  only  coj 


.1 


VSi^: 


*f '- '  ■  fV:% 


\t' 


"V. 


nKff  VUtQINiA  HMutMas. 


43 


and  Miss  Waldron  sat  in  the  shadow,  stately  and  (^old^ 
her  crochet,  and  scarcely  deigning  the  visitors  a  glance, 
[should  she?    They  had  not  come  to  see  her,    at  that  silly  ' 
of  seventeen,  with  the  big  gray  eyes  and  ,?old-colored  \ 


I    '1 


Fred  Harper  nionopol>v  !^ybilla  at  once,  and  Mr.  Way- 
|took  a  seat  beside  Miss  W-.*aron,  and  flattered  that  young' 
in  her  only  weak  point,  by  tsllking  to  her  as  sensibly  as  if 
liad  been  a  man.  But  ever  and  anon  l<is  eyes  wandered 
to  the  pirno,  where  Miss  Tresylian  and  Mr.  Harper  were 
ling  and  talking  animatedly,  while  she  played  lively  little 
ing  tunes.  He  was  n.  sensible  man,  and  he  was  talking  to 
Lsible  young  lady,  but,  for  all  that,  it  was  very  evident  the 
I  of  the  lit^e  enchantress  had  &llen  upon  him  too.     Pres- 

Mr.  Tresylian  and  Eustace  entered,  and  Mr.  Waylanci 

ed  himself  of  that  opportunity  to  secure  a  seat  beside  Sy- 

His  greeting  was  a  brilliant  smile — for  her  intertit  in 

jwas  &r  more  profound  than  in  young  Fred  Harper.     He 

luite  patriarchal  in  her  eyes,  this  grave  man  of  thirty,  and 

leart,  fluttered  a  little  as  she  realized  she  was  Uk-u-UU  at  last 

I  a  live  author. 

|I  trust  yott  are  not  &tigued  after  last  nigh^"  Mr.  Wayland 

"  You  danced  a  great  deal." 
[Tired?"  exclaimed  Sybilla,  with  a  gay  little  laugh ;  "  I  don't 

the  meaning  of  the  word.     I  am  ready  for  a  ball  to-night. 


^ 


[a  party  to-morrow  night,  wjd  another  the  night  after.    Oh," 
Miss  Tresylian,  rapturously,  ''I  could  dance  forever !"  - 


-s/ 


;./■ 


*x 


V 


■Ih 


t^ir 


-'%k. 


■m 


"^ 


44 


,r//E  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


II 


That'! 


like 


t's  very  like  sweet  seventeen— eh,  Mr.  Wayland  ?"  said 
grandpapa,  coming  up  and  chucking  her  dimpled  chin ;  "whfn 
she's  ten  years  older  she'll  begin  to  have  sense,  and  look  on  these 
things  in  a  very  different  light" 

"I  shall  never  have  sense," said  Sybilla,  pouting;  "I  don't 
want  to  have  it     There's  Eleanor  Waldron,  sA/s  sensible,  and  I 
^wouldn't  be  like  her  for  a  kingdom." 

"You  are  only  a  spoiled  baby.  Miss  Tre^lian.  I  wish  you 
were  like  Eleanor.     But  I  suppose  it's  of  no  use  wishing." 

"Not  a  bit,  grandpapa.  Nobody  expects  anything  from  a 
little  thing  like  me  but  to  look  pretty  and  be  silly. "  She  laughed 
merrily  as  she  said  it  "And  now,  Mr.  Wayland,  do  tell  me 
what  you  meant  last  nigat" 

"  Only  this,  that  1  know  a  friend  of  yours  at  the  North  who 
would  be  very  glad  to  see  you." 

^'Who  can  it  be?  Ishouldliketogo  North;  but  I  don't 
know  who  you  can  mean." 

"  I  mean  a  lady  who  was  your  governess  two  years  ago." 

Sybilla  clasped  h^j,  hands.  "Oh,  Mr.  Wayland  I  not  Miss 
Venning?" 

"Yes,  Miss  Venning,"  smiling. 

"  Oh  t  how  much  I  should  like  to  see  her.  She  was  the  only 
governess  I  ever  had  that  I  liked ;  and  just  because  I  liked  her, 
And  wanted  her  to  stay,  she  went  and  left.  Dear,  dear  Miss 
Vcnhii^  I  I  would  give  anything  to  see  her."    ■"    ' 


"Oh,  tl 

Sybilla  t 

"Don't 
ly.  "Yoi 
spend  Nev 

Sybilla's 

"Ishou 

togoNort 

"Thed 
come  and 
in  a  Nortl 


^*  Go  North,  then.     But  her  name  is  not  Miss  Venning  now ; 
she  is  married." 


coax  Mr.  1 

m\     "Here' 

/J   ' 


i-s>- 


t:. 


'"  .  V 


^■T 


[and?"  said 
in;  "when 
ok  on  these 

;  "I  don't 
sible,  and  I 

[  wish  you 
hing." 
hg  from  a 
he  laughed 
io  tell  me 

North  ^ho 

ttt  I  don't 

ago. 

1  not  Miss 


IS  the  only 
liked  her,     ) 
dear  Miss 


\ 


k        •»•  -   V*i-»   1        ■  »   » 


THE  VIRGTNIA  HEIRESS, 


1 


45 


"  Married  I  I  never  knew  it  That's  the  way  evay  one  goes 
■rirr  gets  married.    What  is  her  name  ?"  — ^ 

'•Mrs.  Wayland.*       V' 
"What?" 

"  B  ow  astounded  you  look  I"  said  he,  laughing.  *•  She  is  npt 
my  wiftf— she  is  only  my  mother."  '" 

"  Youl-  mother  I — why  she's  ever  so  much ** 

"Younger  than  I  am.  Very  true;  nevertheless  she  is  my 
Cither's  wife  ■•  * 

*'.How  odd," said  Sybilla,  languidly.  "Is  your  &ther  a  veir 
old  man  ?"  ; 

"About  fifty-three." 

"  Oh,  thaTs  dreadful  old  1    How  could  she-^— ** 

Sybilla  stopped  confused. 

"Don't  mind  me, "said  Mf.  Wayland,  smiling good-natnred- 
ly.  "You  must  ask  her  when  you  go  North.  Cbme  and 
spend  New  Year's  with  ns ;  she  will  be  delighted. " 

Sybilla's  eyes  sparkled. 

"  I  should  like  that,  if  grandpapa  will  let  me.  I  should  love 
to  go  North.     Where  is  it?" 

"The  city  of  Boston.  I  shall  speak  to  yoar  grand&tlier  to 
come  and  fetch  yon  with  him ;  and  yon  shall  see  what  winter 
in  a  Northern  ci^  is.     Eustace  will  com^  toa    Yoa  ma«( 


nmg  now; 


coax  Mr.  Tresylian,  if  he  hesitates] 


.    you. 

\     " 


Here  lie  is,"  cried   Sybilla. 


not  be  able  to  lesist 


idpapa,  come  here. 


f'l 


-  * 


H 


''m 


,.«•.' 


•iff^Hglk.'t'f^   -V 


-•  *  i^^'k     «  I.*  ;  1^  I  *  , 


«.«        ^ 


^^ ;/ T'T 


'•''^^  >»  rf  t 


Mr.  W,yland  h»  .  peat  fevor  to  ask  of  you.  and  I  want  you 
to  savves  beforehand."  ^         -v 

■    Mr.  Tresylian  looked  into  the  eager,  sparkling  6ce  w.th  an 

""tt;::tro«hand,  Highly  chanctenstie  or  MisaSyhUla 
Tresvli'a.  Wl«t  is  it?  ^^nything  la  reason  1  shall  be  happy 
to  obliue  you  and  Mr.  V/r.jhuid  by  granting." 

;  WdLthi.  i,  estre-nelyreasonable/said  Mr.  Wayland.^  "I 
,„  urging  Mis.  Tresylian  to  useher  inSuenceover  you  tobrrng 
Z  'Zl  this  winter.  He,  Ut.  governess.  M>s,  Vennmg  ^ 
ly  other's  wife.  ^  ««1  be  more  than  delighted  to  see  her  «fd 
;'pn.  Con-e.  Mr.  Tresylian,  make  u.  all  happy  b,  «y.ng 
yes.    Here  is  Eustace  to  second  my  request 

..  Of  coune."  said  Eustace,  sauntering  up.     "What  »,.t? 
Mr.  Wayland  informed  him. 

..A  capital  idea.    My  de.r  sir,  say  y«  by  all  means,    l^k 
„  Sybilla's  imploring  (ace.     It  may  be  some  Ume  before  an  op- 

-  r;nTr;:uwil,.  Mr.Wayland,mygr,nddaugh. 
ter  and  I'wdl  a«il  ourselves  of  your  kind  invitaUon.  There. 
«;vhilla  mv  dear,  don't  choke  me." 

'!:  yI  L  old  darling  l"  cried  Mis.  TresyHan.  in  .  ^xysm 
of  kissing.  ..  I  knew  yo«  would.  H.  never  refused  mcany- 
t'7^^r.  WavUpd.  and  h.".  ju.' th.  best  old  g.andli>.her 


that  devo 

threatenin 

irom  him 

Three 

New  Yorl 

and  his  | 

week  of  I 

The  w« 

Wayland 

ful  antici 

•'Let 

cember,' 

pared,  ai 

tie  Sybil: 

approacV 

so  glad  I 

tr)'  and  | 

in  winte 

Of  CO 

hand. 

ing,  ska 

dozen  : 

piles  ai 

about  t 

M\ss 


iirom  ti 


"l„Tso":^L.a«nt  was  given  to  that  ioumey.  who.e  «sulu 
^  l^lor  th.  whol.  future  Ufc.of  SybiUa  Tre^U-u    Could  ^ 


^.i•iAf 


■y'ii)Kfi^£i.iiC'"J' 


i«Sfti  &iii{J»'»feS;^4il^3i^i&;' ,         / 


tHB  virginU  heiress. 


47 


i 

want  you 

:e  with  an 

[issSyJjilla 
i  be  happy 

^land.  "I 
ou  to  bring 
^Tenningi-is 
see  her  ofd 
J  by  saying 

hat  U.  it?" 

lans.     Loolc 
(cfore  an  op- 

granddaugh- 
lon.    There, 

n  a  pafcoxysm 
iised  me  any- 
d  grandfather 


whose  results 
ylian.    Could  i 


that  devoted  erandfather  have6een,  but  for  a  moment,  the 
threatening  future,  surely  nothing  earthly  could  have  wrung 
trom  him  Uiat  consent  .  T 

Three  days  after  Mr.  Wayland  and  Eustace  departed  forj 
New  York.     It  was  settled  before  they  left  that  Mr.  Tresylian' 
and  his  granddaughter  should  arrive  in  Boston  the  second      ^ 
week  of  Decern'-  -',  where  the  t^^o  young  men  woul'  meet  them. 

Theweekfollo'-ngtheir  departure  brought  ale...    from  Mt«.      - 
Wayland  to  Sybilla--a  long,  affectionate  letter,  fuh  of  delight- 
ful  anticipations  of  their  commg  meeting. 

-Let  nothing  prevent  yoi^r  arrival  the  second  week  of  De- 
cember,"  wrote  Mrs.  Wayland.  "Your  room  is  already  pre- 
pared and  I  am  coui^ting  the  days  until  I  shall  see  my  dear  lit- 
tle Sybilla  again.  I  congratulate  you  with  all  my  heart  otr  your 
approaching  marriage.  I  know  of  no  one  to  whom  I  should  be 
so  glad  to  se.  you  united  as  to  your  Cousin  Eustace.  We  will 
trj'  and  give  you  a  gUmpse  of  what  life  is  in  our  Northern  ciUes 
in  winter.     I  am  certain  you  will  be  delighted." 

Of  course  she  would  be  delighted.    Sybilla  knew  that  before-1 
hand.     The  theater,  the  opera,  balls,  parties,  shopping,  s  e,gh-  \ 
ing,  skating-oh  1  it  would  be  a  foretaste  of  paradise.     Half  a  , 
dozen  seamstress^  were  at  ^oik  as  hard  as  theX  could  sew- 
piles  and  piles  of  dresses  wete  being  made,  and  Sybilla  flew 
about  the  house,  in  a  sort  of  gleeful  rapture,  all  day  long. 

M\ss  Waldron  looked  with  lofty  disdain  out  of  her  turquols 
tlue W^^  ^^^^"^  proceeding.,  and  held.hegelf^ 
'  _.  _i.j  4u^  knna*  IMA  ta  be 


■\ 


from  the  dressmaking  din.    She  was  glad  the  house  wa.  f  be 


H\ 


■  '''1 


,  «i*.i-*tf'» 


't^;:?>?: 


4« 


THE  VIRGINJA  HEIRESS. 


rid  of  Sybilla  for  a  couple  of  months  at  least,  and  she  „ 
than  glad  to  know  she  was  so  soon  going  away  for  g^,  Xn 
though  she  was  going  as  the  wife  of  Eustace  Tresylian.     '     f 
So  the  short,  dark,  melancholy  days  of  November  Wore  aJa^ 
The  dead  leaves  lay  in  yellow  drifts  on  the  avenues,  and  fluttered 
mournfully  about  in  the  sighing  wind.     Change  and  gloom 
were  eveiywhere  without ;  but  the  wailing  ^i^d  and  dying  flow- 
ers had  no  voices  to  speak  of  the  deejfer  change  and  gloom  that 
were  threatening  th<^'e  within.     No  ominous  foreboding  of  that 
approaching  journey  troubled  parent  or  child  as  the  prepaiations 
progressed,  and  cold,  snow-clad  December  came  in. 


f        '^ 


,t^  * 


T"' 
i  ^ 

! 
[  she 

or  good,  e^n 
lylian. 
>er  wore  away. 
,  and  fluttered 
e  and  gloom 
id  dying  flow- 
»d  gloom  that 
'odingof  that 
» preparations 
a.' 


rim  y//tGj4*^..  nfEixMss. 


CHAPTER  V. 

^  <K)nrO  NORTH. 

"The  best  laid  schemes  p' mice  and  men  gang  aft  a-gley." 
The  second  week  of  December  came,  but  Mr.  and  Miss  Tresyl- 
ian  did  not  start  for  Boston,  for  Mr.  Tresylian  was  down  with  a 
severe  attack  of  gout 

To  say  that  Sybilla  was  disappointed,  would  be  doing  no  sort 
of  justice  to  her  ffselings  on  that  occasion.     She  flung  herself 
upon  her  bed,  and  went  off  into  a  hysterical  passion  of  childish 
weeping  worthy  a  ^tter  causa     Oh  I  why  need  grandpapa  h^ve 
the  gout  at  all  ?    Or,  having  it,  why  could  he  not  postpone  tht 
attack  for  one  little  week  more?    It  was  too  bad-^  bad. 
With  three  big  trunks  full  of  loves  of  dresses-dinner^resses, 
ball-dresses,  street-dresses,  morning-dresses,  and  all  elaborately 
trimmed  and  flounced,  and  each  more  of  a  love  than  the  other. 
And  now  grandpapa  was  down  for  six  weeks,  or  two  months  at 
the  shortest,  and  the  winter  would  be  gone,  and  she  must  mope 
hereelf  to  death  in  the  drea^splitude  of  Tresylian  Hall,  and 
„*^.^_g^l°jy*<^<^"»«y^tethftirt^ 


1 


> 


4/| 


.!■ 


J 


it  was  a  harrowing  case.   'SybiUa  wept,  and  would  not  b« 
«Mntorted.    Shewasv«i7Klfiih  and  veiy  silly,  1  know,  bat  th« 


,,T' 


.^bI*!*"' 


.*«)iAj 


ii      ,  r.t"    ttf 


A 

,"■'«♦''* 


.t. 


I 


VTS.*    .-    * 


!  ■      ! 


'o  EO  a,va,„d  ieaveh„alo«  „h„ir     ""'  '*^'°°""^' 
."■"■'•onhw.  ,'■'?»' SWdW^  came  ih  to 

-^^^  «3  no  help  f„  i.-k,.  ^"°' '\    """"•' 

-    ^".  .0M,s.l.Wa„a„d,  .olXt^;        ':'"«'-"-«.  «i. 
F«brai,y.,,e„^    '  ^       ""'»'"« '".•postponed  until 

■  «.*<»,  b„.  c^  e  J7n  :1  "27'«'  •-''  I  iuven-t  do„. 
i»«a..oo„  „  e^ h. ,: .We"  ;  m'"'".'""-  "" '»"  '"  ^« 
l«  Ixfor.  the  n,.ddle  of  Februa^.  \  t'a^"'.     «°'"«'  '^'  """'t 

S^bi...  ^  ^th  b„  J^a^^f  f  ?::  ";j' »- '»  -  Oim. 

H-Pe.  CucCr :ttrbin""^'"'»-'-  ^^^ 
^\r^  "'"«  .y«  out  about    'm"'.^'^'°'^°7u« 


'-*,»Jv< . 


V 


1  t     ^    '  ^  ^v^*  " 


» "  ' 


'  -Sijva 


atjoucauld  hardly 
'er  pretty  eyes  were 
Idron,  passionately. 
»od  lady  came  in  to 

ffot  the  agopies  of 
t     She  could  not 
'^\    Not  Eustace, 
>fe  spared. 

ive  sentforth  her 
blistered  with  salt 
'postponed  until 

Tresyhan,  in  a 
ition  marks,  "I 
'  ^  haven't  done 

*o  bad  too  but 
'  and  that  won't 

Je  third  dayaf- 
'er  to  see  him. 
Ige  noticed  at 


quired  Judge 
•  been  ciying 

^r~^  — 


..  THE  V^ROlNtA  HEIRESS,  51 

••  Oh  I  that's  all,  is  it  ?"  said  the  judge ;  "  that's  easily  rem- 
edied. I  am  going  North  myself  in  a  day  or  two,  so  cheer  up, 
pussy— care  killed  a.cat— and  come  with  me." 

Sybilla's  face  flushed  jvith  delight  "Oh,  grandpapa  f' she 
cried. 

"  But  are  you  going  to  Boston  r  inquired  grandpapa,  doubt- 
fully. \  ^ 

"My  business  is  in  New  York ;  but  I  can  take  a  step  fiirther, 
of  course,  and  deposit  mademoiselle  in  Boston.  There  now' 
my  dear,  you  needn't  thank  me;  don't  you  suppose  I  shall  like 
to  have  a  pretty  little  girl  for  company  ?" 

Of  course,  Mr.  Tresylian  could  find  no  objection  to  Judge 
Harper,  festidious  as  he  was.  Sybilla's  face  shone  like  a  sunset 
sky  with  new  hope,  and  the  sick  man  had  not  the  heart  to  cloud 
it  His  illness  was  by  no  means  serious  or  unusual,  so  that 
need  not  detain  her,  and  Judge  Harper  departed  with  the  un- 
derstandin'g  that^iss  Tresylian  was  to  start  for  the  North  with 
him  m  two  days.  - 

Nothing  occurred  this  time;  the  two' days  passed  in  packing 
and  unpacking,  and  the  morning  of  departive  came.    A  dull 
^  darki  December  day,  with  a  raw  wind  and  a  threatening  sky- 
But  the  heart  makes,  its  own  sunshine,  and  SybiUa's  eyes  were 
dancmg  in  her  head  as  she  flew  up  stairs  to  kiss  grandpapa 
good-by.    ^  V  '  *^ 

"  You'll  come  for  me  just  as  soon  as  ever  you  can ;  won't  you 
fl^aadpapai*    And  oh  1  inake  them  attep^l^llo,  and  Jun;^ 
and  Sylphide"  (h«r  dogs),  "and,  above  aU,  Starlight"  (hei 


■■  ■'  '1 
:.■  "ft: 


-If 


^1  * 


:'^-,<,:.'4m 


1  n  '   "^    -~-^ 


5« 


^^  r/2Pff/Ay^  ^^/vpW. 


hoise).     "AndAgrandpapa,  if  you're  nr>.»M 

be  lonesome  withLt  me  »„n^  ''°°  """"o « 

•«>"»  if  .o»  doAsM  W  r*^  "  ^' '"'"'  ^o"  ^"O". 

ne,„,wpr::r.r:rrr™^" 

hiatus  with  kisses.      \  '    °^  ^^^^^  "P  the 

"Good-by,  my  darline- "  Mr  t      ?. 

"Enjo,  ,„„^f^   mtt  af'  2      ,"■■'''  """  '  '^"^ 

Youll  write  eve^  week  in  '  '""  "''"  """"  "^ 

itat  make  haste  andl  weKd  I  """  ^""^  ^^"^  '^ 

\^Joy  m^,f  While  roTalLt-     °"  ''°""'  "'  '  *'Y'  "--^  ■ 

v^gTandr^enf,;:^  '°  'T"^  '««>"»bekis^ „^.  ,,^ 

The  jonmey  was  delightful  •  <^w,]u  .  - 

Au-ing,  and  .hough.  JL^  7™'  ""^  "P""-  o™,    . 

P4^.ead,-,oin/o,d  ^llSX-^rrh  "'."^^ 

=»..    ^onngficewiU.ahalf  am^  LTf It,    "«''^"'^"- 

"-  vL  audible  ecsuaies  reached  3  ^  ^^T  »"""•»» 

«ni4..NewYork,ho,.verMissl??    ,^''*"™"h., 

•  «f .  W.«..  although  she  site  T"""^  "^ 

ti«««l-ier  rosea  were  is  brighf  717^°  "^  ""«'  ^■ 
'■»^««\th.h>g.,,„.^   ''^'■'."  M'^of  »  long  d.,-. 


"^dfc 


jii^w-' 


''««e-'^~orU».d.Ji„N«,y„A,^^ 


.1^ 


¥«, 


.  "-^  iV  '?!•* .,  ^t^A .  ^i^/rt^.* 


i..v 


to  answer  my  let- 
A.nd  you  mustn't 
orse,  you  know, 
for  going  away," 
md  filled  up  the 

i,  with  a*  sigh. 
2ver  mind  me. 
you,  Sybilla?" 
o>  I  dare  say. 
^rry  about  me, 
r  I  sha'ij't  half 

*at     All*the 
issed  that  de- 

raptures  over 
of  paradise. 

•right,  enthu- 

ng  smile,  as 

»e  time  they 

busiasm  had 

ning.     Her 

'as  never  6-  . 
long  day's 

^ork,  toat- 


,.  i#-,%-^^i; . 


THE  VJRCmiA  HEIRESS, 


53. 


^nd  to  the  business  which  had  brotlght  him,  and  to  show  Miss 
Tresylian  the  wonders  of  the  Empire  City.  Everything  exdted 
her  wonder  and  delight — the  crowded  streets,  the  brilliantly- 
lighted  shops,  the  rows  of  palace-like  dW^Uing-honses,  the  Park,; 
the  horse-cars,  in  which  she  delighted  to  ride;  the  theaters,  and 
everyihing,  in  fact  On  the  last  night  of  their  stay;  the  jud^e** 
took  hfer  to  the  Academy  of  Music  to  see  "Lucrezia  Borgia," 
and  words  are  powerless  to  express  Sybilla's  raptures  on  that  oc- 
casion. Oh  !  to  live  in  New  York  1  Better,  a  thousand  times 
better,  be  street-sweeper  m  that  city  of  enchantment  than  an 
heiress  anywhere  else.      %, 

Before  she  went  to  bed  that  night,  Sybilla  wrote  a  long  letter 

to  grandpapa,  full  of  glowing  but  slightly  ungrammatical  acr> 

counts  of  all  her  happiness,  and  next  morning  they  took  the 

train  for  Boston.  t 

It  was  a  sunshiny  December  day,  and  the  young  Virginia 

'  heiress  spent  it  watching  the  ever-shifting  panorama  fly  by.   The 
morning  passed,  the  afternoon  wore  pn,  thejrellpw  wintry  sun 
w^  low  in  the  western  sky,  and  they  were  close  upon  the  lasT  ■ 
stoppiqg-place  betwe«»-til6mand  Boston.     Half  the  people  in 
the  cars  were  asleep,  Judge  Harper  among  them,  when  sudden- 
ly there  was  a  conimotion— a  horrible,  loud-grating  sound — a  . 
shock ! — screams,  uproar,  and  a  deafenipg  noise. .  Sybilla  just  < 
rsmemben;^  this,  and  no  more— all  was  darkness  an4  oblivion. 
When  she  opened  her  eyes  again  she  was  out  in  the  open  air, 

"die  darkening  evening  sky  overhead,  the  cold^  wind  btowing^liiT^ 
her  fiK»,  and  some  <Hie  holding  her  head.    She  lifted  her  duU 


\ 


1^ 

^  1 


15! 


'i 


I     ! 


54 


TWE  VIRGINIA  HEIHESS, 


eyes  and  saw  a  strange  &ce--a  man's  fece-but  an  awful  sefls^ 
•  of  pain  benumbed  eveiy  faculty.  She  saw  dimly  the  pale  face 
of  Judge  Harper  bending  over  her  as  he  talked  to  another  man. 
"  Her  left  arm  is  broken  in  two  places,  and  the  shoulder  dis- 
located," said  this  other  man,  briskly.  "She  had  better  be  re- 
moved to  the  nearest  house  at  once." 

^"She  can  come  to  our  house,"  said  the  subdued  voice  of  the 
person  who  supported  her  head.  "  My  mother  is  an  excellent 
nurse. " 

"So  she  is.  Dick."  said  the  fi,^t  speaker;  "a  capital  idea 
my  boy.     Here,  you  lads,  go  for  a  door  or  shutter,  and  get  a 
mattress  from  Mrs.  Nagle.     Tell  her  we've  got  a  patient  for 
ner. 

All  this  Sybilla  heard  faintly  and  ,&r  off,  like  one  in  a  dream 
Then  they  were  lifting  her,  ve^^.  ve,y  gently,  but  with  a  low 
moanmg  cry  of  agony  she  ikinted  at  the  first  touch. 

It -was  a  merciful  unconsciousness  that  wrapped  her.  until 
they  laid  her  little  bruised  form  in  the  snowiest  and  plumpest  of 
beds,  in  the  prettiest  of  cottage-parlors,  for  the  bed  was  one  of 
the  parlor  ornaments^  and  the  pride  of  Mrs.  Nagle's  heart, 
^  Ml..  Nagle  herself,  a  pale,  gentl^ifttle  woman,  in-widow's 
weeds  bent  above  the  cold  figure  of  the  Virginia  heiress,  with 
tears  falling  from  her  motherly  eyes. 

"Poor  dear  1  poor  dear !  sb  young  and  so  pretty.     There's 
no .    She  isn't  very  badly  hurt,  is  she,  doctor  ?" 

^  wiT^  ^^^^'^^  -eplied,  With  pro. 


=fi«©a^tesknesi.     -We'll  hm^erafl  right  again  in  a^^fc 


w 


•^■"'^\ .  . 


-P^J 


tJy<i 


but  an  awful  sense 
dimly  the  pale  face 
e<l  to  another  man, 
id  the  shoulder  dis- 
e  had  better  be  re- 

bdued  voice  of  the 
ler  is  an  excellent 

;  "a  capital  idea, 
ihutter,  and  get  a 
got  a  patient  for 

2  one  in  a  dream. 

but  with  a  low, 
Duch. 
^pped  her,  until 

and  plumpest  of 
!  bed  was  one  of 
agle  s  heart, 
•man,  in- widow's 
nia  heiress,  with 

pretijr.     There's 
>r?" 

eplied,  with  pro- 

agaia  in  a  week 


rjfjg  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


55 


or  two.     Bessie,  my  dear,  just  you  g^t  us  some  warm  water 
and  strong  linen  bandages— will  you  ?" 

Bessie  Nagle,  a  tall,  buxom,  red-cheeked,  dark-haired  dam- 
sel, hurried  out  of  the  room,  followed  by  her  brother  and  the 
others  who  had  helped  Jo  convey  the  wounded  girl  to  the  cot- 
tage. Only  the  doctor,  Mrs.  Nagle,  and  Judge  Harper  re- 
mained. ^-' 
The  merciful  unconsciousrt<Jss  that  hield  her  lasted  while  they 
set  the  H'slocated  shoulder  and  broken  arm.  Then  restoratives 
were  Implied  by  the  doctor  himseltf 

"We  must  take  great  care  of  her,  Mrs.  Nagle,"  the  doctor 
said,  chafing  the  cold  hands,  "and  not  let  fever  superveiie,  if 
we  can  help  it  That  might  be  dangerous,  you  know.  You'll 
just  follow  my  directions  predsely,  and  with  the  help  of  Provi- 
dence, and  Bessie  there,  and  this  pretty  little  lady's  youth,  we'll 
send  her  home  sounder  than  ever,  before  the  moon  wanes. 
May  we  ask  what  is  her  nj.me,  sir?"  This  last  to  Judge  Har- 
per, looking  on  pale  and  ^nidous.  "She  is  not  your  daugh- 
ter, you  say  ?" 

"No  ;  she  is  Miss  Sybilla  Tresylian,  of  Tresylian  Hall,  Vir-, 
ginia,  on  a  visit  North,  and  any  trouble  or  expense  she  may 
put  you  to  will  be  liberally  rewarded.     Do  everything  >ou  can 
for  her,  and,  when  your  bill  is  presented  to  Mr.  Tre^lian,  I 
assure  you  it  will  not  be  disputed." 

The  judge  made  this  little  speech  with  a  certain  aif  of  pom- 
posity  thatmight^iiave  impressed  any  nwn  bofca  Ne*  England- 
doctor.   That  gentleman  listened  with  a  shrewdly-attentive  look. 


1 


.1 


i  W 


?-/■ 


■;--c,i.'3-K-(.t-s--,; 


'-'  h.' 


I        / 


n- 

V 


/' 


5B 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


II ' 


7"-  *•"  "«V'"'  8!«"*«V    Well,  we'll  do  what  we  can  0 
^P«^^^„„.M,^,M.N..le,Al.,^eo      ": 

Jr^."^  «.,.,„  opened  a„d  looked  ^^i^ 
Judge  Harper  bent  over  her. 
"My  dear,"  he  said,  "how  do  you  feel  ?" 

ae^lzed  him/and  then  her  eyes  wandered  around  thi 
onfinlihar  room  and  unfamiliar  feces.  i 

"Whereaml?"shefeintiyiked. 
"Among  friends,  my  dear,  who'll  be  very  kind  to  L     v 

flurt,  and  the  doctor  won't  allow  it " 

W  a.^,:?'"'  *■"  ■«  *■-  -<•  "<>■'•'  -'"  a».  -„  . 
_^yl.m.«steoWB.toUlk.   Shedn.ka,edn.agh,  submi^H"" 

->*e  H«per  «,d  fe  do«or  left  4e  «,„„,  a,.  latter  linger- 
tog  .moment  u,  give  some  parting  directions  to  Mrs.  Nagle 

a  there  a  hotel  in  this  place,"  tiie  judge  asked,  "to  which  T  *  "'' 
•""""'"' '.  .brdenii 


^mes. 
TheV 
ttleafte 


I/>.  _!    T  —    — ;— s'=~»ea,  ••.townreh 

IZ^.'Pr^'T'^  «-  Tres^lianisoutof 
He  aslted  the  qu^tion  of  Jie 


,lJdjPw'il,soai^ 


Young 
lergood 


r^ 


stood! 


^^st^e  poixOylookiAg  up  at  the  cold,  oystal- 


bund  Be 
upper. 


-JS*. 


/'V 


-:  'T* 


"y  %  .7  ■"•■''JK 


X 


ESS. 

\ 

Magnificent  fellows,  1 

s'll  do  what  we  can  ifo 

Ah !  she  opens  |iei 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


57 


looked  vacaiitly  from 


wandered  i^round  the 


y  kind  to  j^^    You 
alk ;  you  have  been 

g  him  a  glass  full  of 
I'ttalk  anymore  to 

he  draught  submis- 
autes,  she  dropped 

n,  the  latter  linger- 
s  to  Mrs.  Nagle. 
;  asked,  ",to  which 
Tresylian  is  out  of 


»r  December  moon,  and  smoking  a  clay  pipe.  The  young 
an  took  out  his  pipe,  and  answered,  respectfully : 

'  Yes,  sir ;  the  hotel  is  not  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  tMs.     l 
11  walk  there  with  you,  if  you  like." 

'  Thank  you,  my  lad— come  on.     Veiy  unhappy  i^x:ident 
is." 

They  were  walking  briskly  over  the  road,  hard  as  iron  iwit^ 
ack  frost,  and  their  footsteps  echoed  sharply  in  the  night-si- 
nee. 

Yes,  sir,"  the  young  man  said;  "it  is  a  great  pity;  but, 
ler  all,  it  mi^t  have  been  worse.  The  young  lady  is  in  no 
inger?" 

I  believe  not,  unless  fever  sets  in.     I  must  remain  here  ir 
iw  days  to  see." 

"Her  friends  will  be  very  anxious,  of  course." 
"We  won't  tell  her  friends,  my  lad.     Where's  the  use?    If 
he  gets  we41  shortly,  as  the  doctor  says,  it  will  be  only  worry  for 
lothing.     If  she  doesn't,  why  trouble's  soon  enough  when  it 
Dmes.     Poor  little  Sybilla !"  '/;' 

The  Virginia  judge  and  the  New  England  fimner  said  very 
ttle  after  this,  until  their  destination  was  reached,,  The  hotel 
a  big,  white,  wooden  building,  with  green  gutters,  and  a 
rden  in  front     "         '  .^s^    ==^  ^.^ 

Young  Nagle  did  not  go  in.    At  the  door  he  bade  Judge  Har- 
er  good-night,  and  returned  home.     EntCMg  the  he 


*^t 


u    Richard  Nag;le  y ,*?;-       j. 

\i  th(B  cold,  crvstol-  f  "^^^^  B«sie,  with  her  slj^iives  rdfled  up,  busthng  about  getting 
^pper.    The  kitchen  stove  glowed  red-hot,  and  a  savoijr  oddr 


'^! 


-  -ifl! 


,«.V' 


■J 

4 


^^ 


!•*     ^  4.^* 


■  ^&-^ 


^  .\,i«.         S  '^     ^A^^ 


■    1    ■■>' 


-^ 


■#!>■ 


'tj,''.-' 


■y, '.."•■■^ 


^^ 


'  I 


-  ,-!^~  y-,—  jT,  '^^ss^c'sr*  ■'n»Ty.-'s»',f,i^'^ 


58 


nss  VIRGINIA  HRIRBSk 


f' 


> 


of  hot  tea  and  newly-baked  cake  fil'  i  the  apartment  lie  yel- 
low  painted'  floor  shone  with  cleanLness,  and  the  rows  of  tins 
along  the  wall  made  you  wink  again.  The  tabje  was  Set  with 
the  snowiest  of  cloths  and  a  tempting  array  of  warm  biscuit, 
steaming  gingerbread,  golden  pumpkin  pies,  and  "apple  sass." 
"  Your'e  about  stafved,  Dick ;  ain't  you  ?"  demanded  Bessie. 
"It's  eight  o'clock,  and  the  ^cake'9  baked  as  black  as  yourl 
boots,  and  the  tea's  been  boiling  for  the  last  hour.  Don't  you 
smell :.?" 

"Where's  mother?" asked  Dick,  seating  himself  in  mother's 
cushioned  rocking-chair, 

"  Why,  with  &e  young  lady,  of  course— poor  thing  I  -TTow 
pretty  she  is,  Difck,  with  all  that  golden-colored  hair ;  and  her 
dress— ojj^rck,  she  must  be  awfully  rich  to  wear  such  clothes 
as  thWl'f, 

'"iSf  course,  she  is.  Hurry  up,  Bessie,  and  let's  have  some 
su^pei.  What's  this  the  gentleman  called  her? 
^  "Miss  Sybilla  Tresylian,  of  Tresylian  Hall  I  Doesn't  that 
sound  grand,  Dick  ?  How  nice  it  must  be  to  be  her— so  prettj 
and  so  rich,  and  able  to  afford  such  splendid  ear-rings  and  fin- 
ger-rings as  that  ?" 

"  Veiy  nice,  I  dare  say,"  responded  Mr.  Nagle,  with  a  touch 
of  philosophy,  sitting  over  to  his  supper;  "but  don't  you  go 
breaking  the  commandments,  and  coveting  your  ne 
goods,  Bessie,  because 


you 


1 8  no  use.    I  don't  know  thati 


TcouTd  feel  much  better  satisfied  if  I  was  ever  so  rich,  than  l| 
do  now.    Is  Fnmk  Shield  coiaing  hq:^  to-|iJglUf 


( 


^^K^-r     '^*^^r   /^tV^m'     '■Hr;>^^ 


^  \  *■ 


-f,S     \  \ 


partment  The  yd 
ind  the  rows  of  tin 
e  table  was  set  with 
ay  of  warm  biscuit, 
s,  and  "  apple  sass." 
'"  demanded  Bessie 
I  as  black  as  your 
t  hour.     Don't  you 

himself  in  mother's 

poor  thing  I  -TTow 
>red  hair;  and  her 
0  wear  such  clothes 


tiTE  VIRGINIA  HtlRBSS. 


59 


"I  don't  know  whetKer  he  is  or  not,"  said  Bessie,  blushing 
brightly,  "and  I  don't  care.     Are  you  going  to  see  Fanny?" 

Dick  Nagle  laughed  as  he  rose  up  from  the  table. 

"Are  you  going  to  sit  up  to-night  with  the  young  lady,  Bess  ?" 

"Of  course." 

"Then  I'll  step  over  and  fetch  Fanny  to  keep  you  companjr; 
There's  Frank's  step  at  the  door  now." 

The  roses  on  Bessie  Nagle' s  cheeks  turned  to  scarlet  redness 
as  a  tall,  good-looking,  &rmer-like  young  man  entered.  Dick 
took  hiSt  hat,  and  turned  to  go. 

"One  good  turn  deserves  another,"  he  said.  "You  keep 
my  sister  company,  Frank,  and  I'll  just  step  over  and  look  after 
yours.** 


ind  let's  h^ve  some 

er?" 

[all  I    Doesn't  that 

0  be  her — so  prettj 

1  ear-rings  and  fin- 

lagle,  with  a  touch 
'  but  don't  you  gel 
J  your  neighbor's! 
I  don't  know  that! 
iwr  so  rich,  thap  l| 

cttr 


-  V  V  i 


M. 


■fc? 
m.. 


!  -■ 


■--<.■  ^':*'- 


60 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS, 


f 


/^  ,        CHAPTER  VI, 

-  A    SLOW    RECOVIRT. 

Miss  Tresjrlian's  accident  did  not  seem  likely,  after  all,  to  turn 
out  seriously.     Before  the  end  of  a  week  all  danger  of  a  fever 
was  over,  and  she  was  slowly  but  surely  progressing  toward 
health.     It  Was  partly  owing  to  her  own  strong  young  vitality, 
and  partly  to  the  unceasing  care  that  had  been  taken  of  her, 
Mrs.  Nagle  and  her  daughter  were  the  most  untiring  of  nurses. 
All  day  and  all  night  one  or  other  was  by  her  bedside,  antici- 
pating, with  motherly  and  sisterly  care,  her  every  wish.     "  *S- 
la,  lying  pale  and  weak  among  her  pillows,  liked  to  iook  in 
Widow  Nagle's  kind,  serene  fece,  and  listen  to  her  low,  sooth- 
ing  voice.    She  was  from  the  South,  and  when  she  had  married, 
twenty-eight  years  before,  she  and  her  husband  had  gone  to 
Frankfoiit,  Ky.,  to  reside.     There  her  son  Richard  an^  her 
daughter  Bessie  had  been  bom  and  reared,  and  there  three  young- 
er children  slept  their  last,  long  sleep.    Bat  at  the  death  of  her 
husband,  seven  years  ago,  poverty  had  overtaken  them,  and 
Dick  had  come  North  to  try  in  busy  New  England  to  better 
the!r  condition. •' 


*'  He  was  only  sixteen  years  old  then," his  mother  said,  "and 
no  one  knows  how  my  poor  boy  toiled  and  Itbofed  for  the  poof 


A.. 


& 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS, 


6s 


ily,  after  all,  to  turn 
11  danger  of  a  fever 
progresfiing  toward 
3ng  young  vitality, 
been  taken  of  her. 
untiring  of  nurses, 
ler  bedside,  antici- 
sveiywish.     "  *i> 
s,  liked  to  iook  in 
to  her  low,  sooth- 
1  she  had  married, 
)and  had  gone  to 
Richard  anid  her 
there  three  yoang>* 
tt  the  death  of  her 
rtaken  them,  and 
England  to  better 

nothersaid,  '*and 
>ored  for  the  poor 


him.     God  prospered 


mother  and  sister  dependent 
he  always  does  dutiful  children,  and  in  four  years  he  was  able  to 
rent  this  £irm,  and  send  for  us  to  come  North.  I  was  sorry  to 
.  leave  Kentucky  and  my  kind  friends  there,  for  the  South  is  &r 
dearer  to  me  than  New  England  can  ever  be.  Still,  I  have 
passed  three  peaceful,  happy  years  here,  and  here,  if  it  be  the 
wilU^Hptven,  I  ani  ready  to'die." 

jHSiistened  dr^mily  to  this  simple  little  narrative,  and" 
Mrs.  Nagle's  son  became  magnified  into  a  hero  all  at  once. 
Perhaps  his  good  looks  had  something  to  do  with  it,  and  he  was 
ffery  good-looking.  If  he  had  been  the  amiable  owner  of  sandy  ' 
hair  and  a  freckled  complexion,  Miss  Tresylian  would  not  have 
considered  his  filial  cond&ct  worthy  of  a  second  thought  But 
the  "Corsair"  never  possessed  blacker  eyes  or  hajr,  darker 
complexion,  whiter  teeth,  or  more  Grecian  nose  than  Widow 
Nagle's  only  son. 

The  Virginia  heiress  had  only  seen  him  once  or  twice,  bat, 
ailing  as  she  was,  that  was  quite  often  enough  to  photograph  his  . 
handsome  &ce  on  her  romantic  mind.  Seeing  that  a  Creciai;i 
nose  and  raven  locks  are  sufficient  in  themselves,  without  any 
additional  virtues,  it  is  not  suiprising  that  Mr.  Nagle  mounted 
a  pinnacle  in  Miss  Tresylian'g  estimation  that  young  man  neve; 
dreamed  o£ 

Judge  Harper  was  a  daily  visitor  at  die  cottage,  as  solicitous 
almost  about  her  as  her  grandfather  could  have  been.     Nog^^ 


however,  that  all  danger  was  over,  he  be^gan  to  think  of  the 
bm««  wluch M broi^  .  „ ..  «£ 


^:  -i 


^j 


•■"^■<f<" 


'' 

r- 

a  Ix 

'*^'~''m> 

W 

t 

r 

»"  -      .  •    «-  '  ■ 

r 

■ 

»^v      ,'^  ■ 


'^'^ 


0* 


T^^  yiRGINJA  HEIRMSS. 


"You  are  getting  better  so  fest,  my  dear,"  said  he,  t'that  mj- 
presence  here  is  no  tonger  requisite,  and  my  business  reallv 
must  be  seen  to  without;  delay.  Will  you  mind  much  if  I  leave 
you  here  with  these  good  people,  and  take  a  run  up  to  New 
York?"  . 

~  "  Of  course  not,"  said  Sybilla.  "  Mrs.  ^^le  takes  as  good 
care  of  me  as  anybody  could  take,  and  t-i-  aoctor  says  I  will  be 
able  to  sit  up  next  week.  Don't  delay'your  business  on  my  ac- 
count" t 

"  Thank  ycu.  my  dear.  And  now  about  grandpapa-shall  I 
yixxx.^  and  telMiim.  or  shaU  I  wait  until  you  get  better,  and  let 
you  t^U  him  yourself?"  \. 

"It  will  distress  grandpapa  dreadfully  if  he  knows  it  no«r,*' 
said  Sybilla,  anxiously,  "because  you  know,  Judge  Harper,  he 
cannot  come  to  see  me.  You  had  better  wait  I  will  write  to 
him  myself  next  week.  It  s  so  lucky  it  is  my  left  and  not  my 
^ght  arm  that  wai;  brokea.  Oh,  to  think  of  what  might  have 
happened  J"  ^   ;     .         >^ 


Of  CO 
ytx  aros 

"Yoi 
ler  han 
iny  tim 

Sybill 

"Th( 
Eustace 
Be  sure 

Judge 
tained  h 
ranged, 

It  was 
toow  la] 
Ught^-t] 
ing.  A 
of  all,  it 


.  "  Doh't  thinfe  about  it-there's  a  good  girl.  Well,  111  start  Irappe'd  s 
to-morroii?  for  Ne>v  York,  and,  when  my  affairs  are  settled.  I J  ..  ^ 
will  co^je  back  and  see  you  before  going  South.  By  the  way,  Iji^  j, 
will  you  write  to  your  friends  ii^  Boston?"  J 

.  ^No,"skid  Sybilla,-with  a  willfj,)  little  pout  "I  doni  want!  "^'^ 
to  see  any  of  them  until  my  arm  is  better.  They  are  not  ex- 1  ^^®  ° 
pccting  me,  and  will  not  be  anxious,  and  Eustace  never  writes '^'"^'^  *^' 


^./to  granajapa^y  aripng  mte^vali    I  am  veiy  comfortable  I ^^*°* 
^    here,  and  here  I  mean  to  stay  unUl  I  am  quite  well"    ,     "  •  Ipretty,  s 


;*^- 


terward 


7^^- 


my- 


\* 


'-% 


■•^'■X#^*?;t^^^.^j'  " 


~;.^^fi "        2i  '"J^.jJjL 


>  pwr5*f|>«e?r^    , 


'S. 

"  said  he^<' that  my 

my  business  really 

lind  much  if  I  leave 

e  a  run  up  to  New 


J^le  takes  as  good 
ioctor  says  I  will  be 
business  on  my  ac- 

grandpapa— shall  I 
get  better,  and  let 

le  knows  it  now, 
,  Judge  Harper,  he 
lit     I  will  write  to 
yy  leA  and  not  my 
>f  what  mi^^  have 


rl.  Well.  Ill  start 
ffairs  are  settled,  I 
luth.     By  the  way, 

t     "I  don't  want 

They  are  not  ex- 

istace  never  writes 


TffE      jiCmiA  HSIltMSS.  0) 

Of  coorsa  it  mast  be  Ss  Miss  Tresylian  pleased,  so  Judge  Har* 
it  arose  and  biade  her  good-by.  ' 

You  are  sure  you  will  not  feel  lonely?"  he  said,  holding  . 
'  If  yott  do,  -you  know  you  can  send  for  Etistaoe  ' . 


f 

f  > 


ler  hand. 

iny  time."  ;»   \  , 

Sybilla  drew  away  her  hand  t^ith  an  impatient  gesture.    , 

"There  is  not  the  slightest  danger  of  my  being  lonely  for 
Eustace,  nor  of  my  sending  for  him.  Good-by,  Judge  Harper. 
Be  sure  to  come  and  see  me  before  you  go  South."    ..     "^    ' 

Judge  Harper  promised,  and  departed.  His  business  de- 
tained him  over  a  week  in  New  York,  and,  as,  soon  as  it  wasar> 
ranged,  he  returned  |o  Massachusetts.  <^.'       -         t 

It  was  a  cold,  bright  night,  alinost  the  last  of  December.  The 
Snow  lay  white  and  glittering,  and  frdzen  hard  ip  the  moon- 
lights—tlie  stars  were  numberless — the  wind  keen  and  invigocat- 
ing.  A  bright  light  shone  irom  the  cottage-window— J)righ test 
of  all,  it  seemed  to  him  from  the  window  of  Sybilla's  room.  He 
rapped  at  the  door,  and  was  admitted  by  bright-&ced  Bessie. 

'^  dlKxi-evening,  Miss  Kagle.  I  have  returned,  you  see. 
Ho^  is  Miss  Tres>-lian  ?" 

'^  Nicely,  sir.    Walk  in."^ 

She  opened  the'dobr  of  the  little  prirlof,  ithicli  had  been  Sy- 
billa's chamber  from  the  first,  and  Judge  Harper  paused  on  the 


'•x 


* . 


threshold  taconteinpl^te  the  picture^i^a  picture  very  brigh^^ 
pretty,  and  veiy  suggestive,  and  one  to  be  remembered  long  af- 
terward in  the  troubled  days  that  were  to  follow. 


■I 


4' 

% 


¥ 


~m 


very  comfortable 
ewelL"  " 


!»"    .* 


>fe0<-,:i. 


fr' 


Ui 


.^  ,   ^ ^i'"- *•  ,i-%*f:^   f^.  V  '      -.#?*•  "^^ -i, 


-^'    ;. 


A* 


€4 


TBS  VIRGINIA  BEIRESS. 


"Ye 

hope 


A  roaring  fire  of  henilock  logs  blazed  on  the  hearth,  red  « 
Bessie  Nagle's  ownchwks.  Its  gplden  blaze  rendered  quife^u 
pcrfliious  the  lamp  burriingcnthe  table.  It  flashed  on  the  old 
feshioned  mirror,  it  shone  on  the  snowy  bed,  on  the  home-mad- 
carpet,  and  splint-seated  chairs,  and,  brightest  of  all,  on  the 
heiress  of  the  Tresylians,  pretty  Sybilla.  * 

She  lay  on  the  crimson  morocco  lounge,  dressed  in  pale 
blue,  an  exquiate  negligee,  with  fluttering  ribbons.  A  little  pa- 
ler,  a'little  dinner,  but  very  lovely,  with  her  feir  curls  flowing, 
and  her  lai^  eyes  soft  and  dreamy  with  hidden  light 

Seated  at  the  table  in  his  mother's  comfortable  cushioned 
rocking^hair,  sat  Mr.  Dick  Nagle,  reading  aloud.  -Handsoni- 
er  even  than  Sybilla,  and  arrayed  in  his  Sunday  best,  the  wid-, 
ow's  son  looked  rather  a  dangerous  companion  for  the  senti-  "*^''' 
mental,  beauty-worshiping  young  lady.     He  was  reading,  as  if  *    '"^^^ 


The' 
ibsence 
ooked 
"Wh 
"To- 
"Nej 
ravel  b) 
"Ah  I 
Sybil!) 
ight 

"Yol] 
way." 


to  make  matters  worse,  the  Lady  of  Lyons,  and  Judee  Harper, 
glancing  from  one  to  the  other,  compressed  his  lips  with  any- 


tac 
Loi 


thing  but  a  satisfied  expression. 

Dick  Nagle  looked  up  from  his  book,  Sybilla  glanced  over 
her  shoulder  at  the  opening  of  the  door.    The  young  man 
arose,  in  nowise  disturbed  by  the  sudden  apparition,  but  the 
young  lady  uttered  a  feint  feminine  exclamation,  and  her  fece, 
pale  a  moment  before,  flushed  all  over  carnation. 

"  I  need  not  ask  if  Miss  Tresylian  is  better,"  said  the  judge, 
faking  a  seat     "I  see  she  is."         ' 


nee  IS  < 

lot  trave 

"Not 

"Will 

"Of  c 

lave  it  re 
".Byn 

icddentj 
"I  thii 

rount  bo 


Something  in  his  tone  deepened  the  rosy  light  in  Miss  Tre- 
sylian's&ce,  and  her  glance  fell  ^nftisedly.  I»ere?"  ^ 


4. 


?*,  ^     • 


n  the  hearth,  red 
ze  rendered  quite  ^u 
[t  flashed  oh  the  old 
I,  on  the  home-mad 
titest  of  an,  on  th 


TOE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


H 


ige,  dressed  in  palej 
bbons.     A  little  pa 
r  &ir  curls  flowing, 
icn  light 

tfortable  cushioned 
aloud.  -Handsort- 

r 

nday  best,  the  wid- 
aion  for  the  senti 
5  was  reading,  as  \{ 


"Yes," she  said,  fiiintl^     "I  am  much  better,  thank  you. 
hope  you  had  a  pleasant  journey."  \   i 

The  widow's^son  had  arisen  and  left  them  together,  and  his 
ibsence  seem,e(l  to  relieve  Sybilla  of  her  embarrassment.  She 
ooked  up  with  a  more  assured  air.  ■     \. 

' '  When  are  you  going  South  ?"  she  asked.  ^  •    >  ■  < 

"To-morrow.    When  are  you  going  to  Boston  ?" 
•  *  Next  week,  I  believe.     The  doctor  thinks  I  will  be  -able  to 
vel  by  that  time.     You  dpn't  know  how  I  dread  it*' 
"Ah !    Are  you  so.fescinated  with  this  place,  then  ?" 
Sybilla  looked  up,  her  gray  eyes  filling  with  rather  an  angry 
ight 

You  know  what  I  meap,     I  dread  the  thoughts  of  the  rail- 


ind  Judge  Harper, 
his  lips  with  any- 


'billa  glanced  over 
The  young  man 
pparition.  but  the 
ion,  and  her  &ce, 
ion. 
'"  said  the  judge, 

igfatin  Miss  Tie- 


nray. 


"Then  why  not  be  driven  to  your  destination?    The  dis- 

ance  is  only  twenty  miles.     If  you  write  to  Eustace,  you  need 

lot  travel  by  rail     Have  y(^u  written  y^t?" 
"Not  yet     I  wanted  to  surprise  them." 
"  Will  you  send  a  letter  with  me  to  your  grandfether  ?" 
"Of  course.     If  you  call  to-morrow  before  you  leave,  I  will 

lave  it  ready.     If  that  is  too  much  trouble,  I  can  send  it" 
".By  no  means—I  will  call    Am  I  to  say  nothing  of  your 

icddent?"  ^  ,    \^ 

"I  think  you  had  better  not    I  will  send  him  a  detailetl  ao- 
ronnt  from  Boston.     He  would  worry  so,  you  know.' 


Ye^"  (a  pause),  "and  how  do  you  like  these  good  people 
lere?"  ^        •'>:,■■       '       '    '^    " 


f 


1^ 

Si" 


m 


M 


»»*««i 
i 


",*> 


;r 


i?' 


i-^' 


e$ 


T'fE  WHMQUfU 


r4E& 


"Verjr  much."      \      • 
"They  ar^very  kind  to  you?'* 
"Very."        ^ 


A  certain  air  of  restraint  with/which  she  spoke  warned  tht 
juige  that  the  subject  was  not  agreeable.  That  only  confirmed 
his  suspicion,  and  he  hazarded  another  question. 

"Very  thoughtful  of  that  yoi^ng  man  to  read  to  you ;  is  h« 
in  the  habit  of^ doing  it?" 


Na 
Ipap 
3essi( 


er  all 

Deas 

not' 

trtlei 

one 


i,  •  '  w  one 

Sjfbilla  looked  suddenly  upJthe  a«[gry  blood  of  the  Tiesyllpe  yc 


: 


^)ians  flashing  in  her  eyes,  and  glowingin  her  cheeks. 

"  He  reads  to  toe  when  I  aik  him  to  do  so.     I  shall  proba- 
bly keep  on  asking  him  while/l  remain  her*  1"       * 
Of  course  that  ended  the  mWr. 
The  judge,  arose 


3ughl 
"You  will  have  your  letter  ready  when  I  call  {n  th«  mom-  Jut  it 


ingr 

"Yes.  Grandpapa's  qu^tions  will  be  rather  embarmstinff; 
but  you  are  a  lawyer,  Judgi  Harper,  and  will  b«  able  to  evad< 
him." 

She  held  out  her  hand  Vrith  a  brilliant  smil^  her  (asdnatins 
little  self  again. 

The  old  judge  sighed  as  he  took  it 

"  I  will  try  to,  my  ch^ld.  Take  care  of  younelf  when  I  am 
gone."  / 

Be^ie  let  him  out,  a^d  came  into  tlie  parlor. 


vill  w 
itiltt 


"la 


stra 
nt  w 

No, ; 

:  gra 

S 

St 

Perhi 
riousl 

"I'n 


peete 
ly  an 
ancei 


"^Dick  wants  to~kaiQw  if  you  wish  him  to  read  any  more  to- 

-  / 


V-- 


pep/f-i 


S-l    1  »J*«>. 


&/■   ,"  ^ 


_  ,,.     v**-     »,»^«1^  I 


i-p?: 


tM& 


That  only  confirmed 
uesUon. 
to  read  to  you ;  is  he 


VIRGINIA  HEIRSSS. 


\ 


•/ 


No.    Wheel  np  that  table^  Bessie,  and  give  ine  pen,  ink, 
1  paper.    I  must  write  a  letter." 

Bessie  obeyed,  and  quitted  the  room.     Sybilla  mused  a  long 
she  spoke  warned  th«  ^^^^^^^  she  i^gj^  to  write;  but  the  note  was  verybrie^ 

erall:  *  .     ^ 

Dear  Grandpapa — ^You  miist  not  be  ang^  with  yodr  Sybilla 
not  writing  before,  \Xid  you  ;nust  not  be  offended  no\V  at  a : 
rt  letter.     I  am  well  d»id  happy.    .Is  not  that  enough  ?    Ev- 
one  is  good  tome,  and  the  time  goes  by  like  magic.     1 


: 


r  blood  of  the  Tresyl-Ipe  you  are  better  again,  apd  will  soon  be  able  to  come  NortH^ 

vill  write,  in  a  week  or  so,  a  long,  loi^  letter  full  of  news, 
itil  ther,  dnarest  grandpapa,  I  remain 
~/l  Your  devoted      /  ' 

/  ,  SYBItLA. 


her  cheeks. 

do  80.     I  shall  proba 

ertl"       u 


rather  embarrusing^ 
will  b«  able  to  evad 


>f  yourMlf  when  I  am 


tarlor. 


to  read  any  more  to" 


1         ^  -t      ' 


'  I  anf  afiraid  grandpapa  will  think  this  very  unsatisfactory,'' 
3ught  Miss  Tresylian,  pondering  over  her  own  composition ; 
n  I  call  in  th*  mom-f'ut  it's  impossible  to  help  it     I  know  he  would  be  for  corn- 
straight  here,  well  or  ill,  if  he  knew  of  my  accident,  and  I 
nt  want  that" 

No,  Miss  Tr^lian  did  not  wane  that     She  did  not  want  to 
grandpapa,  or  Eustace,  or  Mrs.  Wayland,  or  any  one  just 
smiley  her  lasclnating  t    She  did  not  want  to  leave  the  c*ttage — why,  she  knew 

St 

.    -  \  \ 

Perhaps  Judge  Harper  knew,  too,  for  he  was  thinking  rather 

riously  of  his  young  charge  just  before  he  fell  asleep^ 

"I'm  afraid  this  accident  riray  turn  out  rather  worse  .than  I 

pected,"  he  thought  -J-II  might  have  foreseen— and  she  ao- 


ly  and  sentimental,  too.     Confound  the  whole  tribe  of  ro- 
ancers  and  poetasters  1    They  turn  the  brain  of  every  woman 


\ 


\ . "  ^■ 


/ 


08 


■■.  -/ 


TJTB  VlRGimA  miRBSS. 


in  t^e  nation.    I  hope  I  won't  get^nto  a  scrapi;  and  I  wi  ce  tl 
with  all  my  heart,  Eustafce  Tresylian  Were  here  to\look  after 
promised  wife."  '  \ 

Judge  Hatper  called  at  the  cottage  veiy  6arly  neit  momi 
between  seven  and  eight,  and  received  MissXTr^Iian's  let 

He  held  her  hand  a  moment  at  parting,  and  iWed  eamei   ,  u., 
j«»«K-..„_  sybil 


cm 
*res< 

'Id 

Ihai 


Ha 


into  her  eyes.  y 

"And  you  will  be  sure  to  write  to  your  friends  in  Best  „ti. 
next  week,  Sybilla?"  .         . 

"Of  course,"  Sybilla  answered,  rather  pettishly.  **'I  sh 
not  remain  here  after  I  am  able  to  leave." 

Perhaps  the  young  lady  made  the  promise  fn  good  feith ;  b 
if  so,  she  certainly  did  hot  keep  it     That  week  passed,  and 
nex^  and  the  third  came,  and  still  the  Virginia  heiress  linge 
in  the  New  England  cottage. 

It  was  the  middle  of  January,  and  the  snow  lay  piled  wh 
and  high  everywhere.  The  wild  winds  of  mid-winter  shriek 
around  the  house,  tore  through  the  gaunt,  black  trees,  rattl 
the  windows,  and  whirled  the  red  sparks  in  fiery  showers  up  t 
wide  chimney. 

•  Miss  Tresylian  was  quite  well  again — even  her  sling  was  d 
pensed  with.  Why,  then,  was  she  still  here?  Ah  I  ask  h 
that,  as  she  sits  on  the  hearth-rug  before  the  parlor-fire,  loo 
ing  dreamily  into  the  glowing  coals,  and  listening,  as  on  t 


night  when  Judge  Harper  returned,  to  Djck  NagJa  wfl4H 


aloud  a  highly-spiced  romance.     Sybilla  is  blind,  and  deaf,  ai    '  Wi 
in  a  dream.     She  does  not  hear  a  word— she  only  listens  to  t    <  No 


.-•'^A^k' 


ussss. 


very  6arly  neit  momi 
d  MissXTrraylian's  leti 


your  firiends  in  Bost 


her  pettishly. 


«( 


I  sfa 


♦■.-/;,.?;' -f'',^-"'. 


►•  '> 


THE  VIROmiA  HEIRJ^SS, 


69 


ito  a  scrap^;  and  I  wi  ce  that  is  deep  and  musical  enough,  and  $ee8  the  picture^  ih 
vere  here  to\look  after  M  crimson  coala  /      '^ 

Presently  the  young  man  lays  down  his  book. 

'I  don't  believe  you  beg«  a  word,  Miss  Tresylian,"  he  says. 

>  _h  a  laugh.  ' 

ng,  and  looked  eamei   <.  .  .,1    i    1   j       .-j*u      . l 

^  ^ybilla  looked  up  with  a  start 

'  Have  you  finished  ?    Were  you  speaking  ?" 
'  I  knew  it     I  said  you  did  not  hear  a  word.     Here  I  have 
n  reading  this  Buctaneer  of  the  Bosphorus  for  the  last  hour, 
1  I'm  certain  you  haven't  heard  two  nv}rds  1" 
'No— I  have  been  thinking." 
'  Thinking  of  what  ?  _Our  sleigh-ride  to-night  ?" 
or  be  it  known  Mis6  Tresylian's  health  demanded  moon- 
it  sleigh-rides,  with  Mr.  Richard  Nagle  for  charioteer. 
'No — thinking  I  must  go  away  to-moirow." 
"To-morrow  1    Oh,  not  so  soon,  surely  1% 
"Yes,  I  must,  Pick.     I  have  staid  too  long  already.     But 
emain  in  Boston  for  four  or  five  weeks,  and  eveiy  week  I  shall 
ne  out  here  to  visit — your  mother."  i 

'Ah  I  you  think  so  now.     You  will  forget  all  about  us  poor 
:s  when  you  leave."  - — 

Sybilla's  gray  eyes  met  his  with  a  sudden  luminous  flush. 

'  You  "know  better  than  ^at    Will  you  drive  me  to  the  dtjr 


)miserngood&ith;b 
iiat  week  passed,  and 
Virginia  heiress  lingei 

he  snow  lay  piled  wh 
I  of  mid-winter  shriek 
lunt.  black  trees,  rattl 
s  in  fiery  showers  up  t 


-even  her  sling  was  d 
ill  here?  Ah  I  ask  h 
>re  the  parlor-fire,  loo 
nd  listening,  as  on 


to  Dick  Na^^^teada   'norrow.  Dicki'l 


I  is  blind,  and  deaf,  ai 
—she  only  listens  to  t 


*  **  '^:"?.' 


r^K^ 


'  Will  I  />    Are  you  not  going  in  the  train  ?"     ■ 

' No ;  I  hate»the  cars.    But  come,"  starting  up,  "  it  is  time 


ill 


■  -s.*  ,  / 


If-- 


*Wl! 


I'TfPf    .J""',--     to,. 


; 


/o 


rsar  Virginia  hsixess. 


for  our  drive,  and  the  night  is  lovelW    Huny  and  fetch  roi 
the  sleigh ;  we  can  talk  all  about  this/  on  the  way," 

The  young  man  hastened  off,  ai/d  in  ten  minutes  had 
light  sleigh  and  active  horse  at  the /door.  Sybilla,  all  mu, 
up  in  shawls  and  furs,  got  in  beside/  him,  and,  with  the  m 
jingle  of  bells,  they  dashed  off  in  the  silvery  moonlight 

"  Handsoi»e  couple,  ain't  they, /Frank?"  Bessie  Nagle  ask 
watching  them  out  of  sight,  with  itx  beau  in  the  porch. 

She's  rich, "  responded  Fran|i,  sagaciously.     "  She  is  a  ( 
above  Dick.     They'll  never  maki  a  couple,  Bessie. 

"Above  Dick  1"  exclaimed.  Mks  Nagle,  her  black  eyes  flaa 
Ing.     "  There's  not  a  lady  MJMasa^pJmpetts  too  good  for  Di< 
I've  been  in  Boston,  and  l^^i^intIemen--lQt8  of 'em~l 
I  never  saw  any  handsomer  l^y^r  Dick»>^ 

"I  guess  Miss  Tresyiian  l^^to,"  Frank  said,  laii 
Ing.     "There's  your  mother  LlKngpir Bess. ^^^ 
It  was  late  when  the^jghmg  party  ^^^^^ 
o'clock.     Bessie  stqod  aU  in  thp  moonlit  porch,  wrapU 
a  shawl,  Frank  had  gone  hfon^p,  and  Mrs.  Nagle  had  gone 
bed.    Jpst  as  she  was  g^etUiig  impatient,  the  sleigh  flew  up. 
>'  How  late  you  j^e,"  B^ie  ciied.     "  Have  yt)u  had  a  £oi 
-iime,  Dick?"         \  '     .1-.  *  ' 

"Ask  Miss  Tresyiian.  "/said  her  brother,  laughing. 
But  Miss  Tresyiian^  With  "chee'ks  like  the  i^ses  red  " 
gone:  '  ' 


In  t 

nuar 

rick  s 

aited, 

lont  ! 

he  ke 

ito  bi| 

'X  da 

trsab 

lenan 

lin  a 

le  pill 

Her 

ised  t 

"Is 

"Ye 

hat  n 

i^ 
mt  re 
lone  w 


r-^  ™^iy-^  ^.^ggpi^    "^T*^ 


{''W"' 


""■■':  ii 


UXESS. 

Huny  and  fetch  ro 
on  the  way. " 

in  ten  minutes  bad 
oor.     Sybilla,  all  mu 
lim,  and,  with  the  m 
ilveiy  moonlight 
ik?"  Bessie  Nagle  ask 
iatt  in  the  porch, 
aciously.     "  She  is  a 
iple,  Bessie." 
Ifle,  her  black  eyes  flai 
i^tts  too  good  for  Di< 
lemen — Ipts  of  'em 
ick^^ 
feb,"  Frank  said,  lau 

fe'le^."'" "' 

irty  i-etumed— past 
onlit  porch,  wrap; 
Irs.  Nagle  had  gone 

the  sleigh  flew  up. 
*  Have  you  had  a  go 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


71 


»-'' 


VII. 


IK  SOCIETT. 


In  the  wintiy  twilight  of  a  January  day— nearly  the  last  of 
inuary— Sybilla  Tresylian  tripped  up  the  steps  of  an  imposing 
rick  structure  in  Beacon  street,  and  rung  the  bell.  While  she 
aited,  she  Wfti^hed  the  peqple  hurrying  homeward  along  Tre- 
lont  street?  stild'downthe'^ Cc 


rt,  laughing. 

k«  the  roses  red," 


Common,  no#  white  with  snow, 
he  keen  evening  wind  had  blown  the  pink  bloom  of  her  cheeks 
ito  big,  round  roses,  and  fluttered  the  tusseled  ringlets  under 
X  dainty  little  hat  She  looked  a  bright  littlgdk^st-feiiy,  in 
;r  sable  furs,  and  rose-lined  mantle,  and  rose-hl^Rbbons,  and 
en  and  women  passing  rapidly  along  the  street  paused  to  glance 
lin  at  the  bright,  pretty,  girlish  &ce  and  trim  little  figure  on 
le  pillared  door-step. 

Her  ring  was  answered  by  a  woman-servant,  who  looked  sur- 
ised  to  see  a  strange  young  lady  call  at  this  late  hour. 
"Is  Mrs.  Wayland  at  home ?"  Sybilla  asked. 
"Yes,  Mrs.  Wayland  is  at  home.     Please  step  in  this  way. 
hat  name  ?" 

seating  h^r<tf>lf  in   *\\n  alm, 

ovauu|c  AiCAagtir   m  -WC— CAP* 

nt  reception-room,  and  thinking  her  governess  mHBf'iiave 
lone  worse  than  marry  an  old  man,  after  all 


p 


< ) 


4^1 


h^ 


■^ 


<^ 


<^:^iy 


\ 


I   !■ 


!    i 


i  I' 


; 


71 


7J 


rj/£  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


the  V 
Th 


Five  minutes,  ten,  fifteen  passes.     Bells  rang,  servants  curse, 
and  recursed  the  bell,  doors  opened  and  shut,  and  footste; 
ran  up  and  down  stairs. 
Twenty  minutes  f 

Sybillawas  getting  impatient,  when  there  was  a  rustling  ol  "^tic 
silk,  and  a  taU,  youthful-looking  lady,  pale  and  stately,  swept  in       Mi 

"I  fear  I  have  detained  you,"  she  said,  in  a  peculiarly  gentl< 
voice,  "  but  I  was  engaged.     Why,  Sybilh  r 

Sybilla  laughed,  and  then  there  was  a  pause,  in  which  noth 
Ing  was  done  but  kissing. 

"  You  darling  child  I  how  glad  I  am  to  see  you  !  And  how 
you  have  grovyn  I  Stand  up,  and  let  me  look  at  you.  Why, 
you  are  a  young  lady." 

"Ofcourse,"  said  Sybilla.  "What  would  you  have  of  a  per- 
son  in  her  eighteenth  year?" 

"Are  you  that  ?^  You  don't  look  sixteen.  But  where  is  youi 
grandpapaf ' 

' '  In^irginia.     I  came  here  alon^. " 

"Alone  1"  repeated  Mrs.  Wayland,  looking  unutterably 
shocked.  ^ 

"  Yes ;  but  it's  such  a  long  story.  Miss  Venning Oh  ! 

T  K.„  -jardon-Mrs.  Wayland-but  the  other  sounds 


f 


ural 


# 


Mis.  Wayland  laughed  good- 


i|turedly. 


^^'y^-^^^J^^S^^Xm]^]^^,  when  Geoi^e  t«^M  yoa 
waarifcried?"  •        , 


smile: 
"I 
be  m 
don't 
«<  Y 
and  c< 
"B 
twenty 
it  all. 
JUt,  if 
"D 
"Y( 
no  do 
only  y^ 
"It 
"II 
Sybil 
ler  che 
"Su( 
kug] 
Mre. 


"■%. 


&m:^^£ikiM0 


':i'm- 


~^     i^K  *■*■-»•.. 


ESS. 

Is  rang,  servants  curse( 
id  shut,  and  footstep 


here  was  a  rustUng  o 

e  and  stately,  swept  in 

in  a  peculiarly  gentle 

pause,  in  which  noth 


T/IE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


73 
By 


"George?!  Oh!  Mr.  Wayland.     Yes,  I  was,  rather, 
the  way,  I  sujUse  he  and  Cousin  Eustace  are  here  now?' 

There  was  in\her  manner  a  slight  hesitancy,  which  her  friend 
noticed.  \  j 

Mrs.  Wayland  Wed  down  in  the  &ir  youn^fecft.with  a 
smile,  half  tender,  half  sad,  ^ 

"My  little  Syl?illL-a  child  the  other  day,  and  ehgaged  to 
be  married!  I  ough\  to  congratulate  you,  I  suppose,  but  I 
don't  feel  like  it" 

see  yiu  I    Aid  hovj     "  "''"'.'"" '."  ^'""""  V'  ""«'"■'«  »  ^"^  =°°«^io"»  "^ugh. 
1.^^!.    *  «r.  <^olonng  vividly.  \ 

"Because  you  are  too  i>^ung.     They  ought  to  let  you  reach 

.Idyouhaveofapert  l^tnS'Tt'^^^^^     T"'  '^^^  "°  '"'''^ 
t~      It  all.     I  don  t  like  it.     It  is  Vone  of  my  business,  I  suppose ; 

but,  if  you  were  mine,  you  sho^d  wait  three  years  yet. " 

"Don't  you  like  Eustace?"    \         v 

"  Yes ;  it  is  not  that  I  like  ^ustace  extremely,  and  I  have 
no  doubt  he  will  make  you  an\  excellent  husband.  It  is 
only  y6ur  youth  I  complain  of    Ge^,ge  is  of  my  opinion,  too. " 

"  It  is  grandpapa's  wish,  you  know.  Mis.  Wayland  ?" 

"I  know.     Sybilla,  do  you  love  your  cousin  ?" 
SybiUa  bent  over  her  glove,  trying  desperately  to  nn&sten  it, 
ler  cheeks  aflame.  „  >,. 

"Such  a  very  embarrassing  question,  Mre.  Wayland,"  tn^ng 
laugh.     "-HoweABrymf^ 


I.     But  where  is  youi 


looking   unutterably 

Venning .    Oh  ! 

ther  sounds  so  ftat- 


j,-.t 


Mis.  Wayland  took  the  busy  little  hands,  and  held  theln 


iif^pf'' 


..'•T- 


^ 


^       - 


-X 


it 


\-^i!JiHii^'MJry:ad':j^r.wJti,iki^ 


! 


ill 


1 1, 
111 


74 


TH^  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


"Answer  your  old  governess,  Sybilla."  - 

For  answer  Sybilla  dropped  her  head  suddenly  on  Mrs.  W^j? 
land's  shoulder,  and  burst  into  a  hysterical  passion  of  weeing. 
Very  much  shocked,  Mis.  Wayland  sat  and  looked  on 

"My  dear  Sybilla  !  my  dear  child  I     I  beg  ^our  ^rdon— J^ng 
had  no  idea — Sybilla,  what  is  the  matter?" 

"Oh,  don't  ask  me!---don't  mind  me^  lam  onlyasillj  ^t  wi 
girl,  you  know,  and  I  have  been  sick.  Please  ilet  me  alone  fo  s  tall 
a  little  while,  and  I. will  be  better  again." 

Mrs.  Wayland  led  her  up  stairs  to  a  pretty  clWiber,  kissing  \  « 
snd  soothing  her  as  though  she  were,  indeed,  a,  child.  Ii  :-roc 
seei^ed  only  yesterday  since  she  had  kissed  and  soothed  hei    ers, 

W 

"'I 

re  i 


Mr. 

ostj 
iss,  a 
"H( 


just  like  this,  when  the  heiress  of  many  Tresylians  criea  hei 
pretty  little  eyes  half  out  over  the  death  of  a  pet  kitten. 

"  Where  are  your  trunks?"  Mrs.  Wayland  asked.    "The  dm 
ner  bell  will  ring  presently. " 


"They  won't  be  here  until  to-morrow.     Oh  !  I  foi^got— yoi    »•*< 


don't  know." 

So  Sybilla  sat  down  and  told  Mrs.  Wayland,  in  brief,  th< 
story  of  her  mishap.. 


"You  poor  child  I  how  dismal  it  must  have  been,  mope(    V^^ 
up  in  that  old  ferm-house.     You  should  have  sent  for  us. 
-  "I  was  very  comfortable  there,"  Sybilla  said,  soRly}  "thej 


were  the  nicest  people  1    I  promised?  to  go  see  them  every  week 
■whillJ  stay. 


SI 
"Si 
non 


'P 
"W 
the 

^rs 


The  dinner  bell  raagas  she  spoke,  and  Mrs,  Wayland  led  he*ill! 
down.  \ 


JiiSSSi#aS''i4«j6.  -/i  »r 'J.dii;i 


'ESS. 

luddehly  on  Mrs.  Way?- 
al  passion  of  weeing, 
md  looked  on 


jet 


-y^-f'. 


t- 


TJIE  yummiA  HEIRESS. 


75 


Mr.   Wayland  was  alreadf  there— a  hale  old  gentleman, 
osty  but  kindly,"  seen  through  a  lonf  vista  of  silver,  and  eut 

iss,  and  flaming  gas-lighu    .  » 

'Hovr  could  Miss  Venning,"  thought  Miss  Tresylian,  "so 
I  beg  trour/^tdon— ling  and  so  pretty?    He  is  a  very  nice  old  gentlen^m,  I  dare^ 

r 

nel, 
Please 


pretty  c 
indeed. 


;  but  how  could  she  many  him  ?' 

am  only  a  silltt  wfs  rather  dull  at  dinner.,  where  Mr.  Wayland  did  most  of 

me  alone  fo   :  talking,  and  kept  asking  her,^eations  about  the  South,  and 

grandpapa,  and  the  accident,  and  the  people  she  stopped 

ber,  kissinAh,  until  her  head  ached.     It  wju  dull,  too,  in  the  long  draw- 

;.room  after  dinner,  with  Mr.  Wayland  in  the  library  writing 


child.     I 


ly  Tresylians  criea  hei 

of  a  pet  kitten. 

land  asked.    "The  dm 


Wayland,  in  brief,  the 


go  see  them  every  week 


issed  and  sdpthed  hei    ers,  and  Mrs.  Wayland  playing  the  piano  for  her. 

"Won't  you  play ?"  Mrs.  Wayland  jaked.     "  I  want  to  hear 

you  have  improved  since  I  left* Virginia." 
"I  can't  play;  my  arm  is  not  strong  ei^ugh  yet.     And  I 
re  improved  backwards  since  you   left.     I   never  pracUce. 

IV.     Oh!  I  forgot— yoi    anor  Waldron  does  enough  of  *hat  for  both  of  us." 

'  She  was  always  studious.  I  have  no  doubt*she  plays  well." 
"Splendidly.  She  knows  lots  of  things— botany,  and  as- 
nomy,  and  chemistry,  and  mathematics,  aftid  half  a  dozen 

iust  have  been,  mopec    guages.     She's  dreadfully  learned,  and  I  hate  her  !" 

"Oh,  Sybilla!" 

ilia  said,  softly  j  "thej  "  Well,  I  do— so  where's  the  use  of  playing  hypdfcrite ?    Of 

the  selfish,  unfeeling,  disagreeable — 
Mrs.  Wayland  put  her  hand  over  the 


le  detractor's  mouth. 


dMrs  Wayhmd  led  heiiila  laagHed 


You  didn't  like  her  yourself,  you  know. 


4 


'1^ 


% 


in 


ii 


f 


V    • 


76 


TTfE  KIRQINJA  JiEIRESS. 
hav 


lylai 
tet( 


»Jexl 


"  Th^n  I  must  have  been  unjust,  for  she  certainly  was  a  ino( 
pupil — not  a  bit  like  you,  flighty  little  thing  1" 

"Still,  ^ou  liked  me  best"  . 

'"  How  do  you  know  I  did  ?" 

" "  Oh,  I  know  I  It  is  etey  to  tell  when  we  are  liked.  P 
Mrs.  Wayland,'«ing  that  song  you  used  to  sing  for  me  long  2 
— Sbil  and  Low!  Breathe  my  Passion."  . 

"And  you  will  think  of  Eustace,  I  stii)pOse,  while  I  si 

You  sentimental  little  Sybilla  1    Do  you  read  as  many  noveli 

—  .       ■       ,     .  .     ,..    .  ■-,    , 

•   1    ■  ■    ■  ■ ,  .1  , 

"About  the;  same." 

"And  Byron,  and  Shelley,  and  Tennyson,  and  the  rest 
them  ?" 

"Yes." 

.     ^ 

"And  isn't  your  head  tamed  ?" 

" Only  a  little.     Dosing." 

Mrs.  Wayland  sang  the  song  in  a  low,  sweet  vdce.    Sybi 
sitting  on  a  stool,  with  her  head  in  the  lady's  lap,  listene(| 
her  eyes  full  of  misty  dreaminess,  and  thoughts  foil  of^ 
Eustace  Tresylian. 

"  Tluit  is  so  pret^,"  she  said,  vdth  a  flattering  sig^    'i 
stop— sing  more." 

So  Mis.  Wayland  sang  half  the  evening.   Then  Mr.  Wayl 
came,  and  the  music  ceased,  and  it  was  dull  again,  and  a'^flase,' 
look  came  over  Sybilla'a  &ce.    ^le  leened  her  head  agauMt^  she 


iadv 
sylii 

!o  y 
e,  y( 
ton 
he  < 
1.0 
pel 

rs. 

to 
first 
cou: 
utift 
m  la 
ped 
hen 
trie 
h  < 


!(■«■. 


azure  velvet  ba£k  of  her  chair,  pale  and  stUl. 

"We  shall  have  no  more  such  stupid  evenings  as  thi^,'' 


we< 
[surp 


sK<««aini»r«*ni 


:/JiESS. 


she  certainly  was  a  ino( 
;  thing  1'' 


;''*# 

kt 

v^*?? 


•'^V-i  <". 


■s^  .fSti 


■.Zi. 


\  . 


I  fl**;  '"'■■•/ 


tffE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


77 


)  f 


hen  we  are  liked.     Y) 
d  tP  sing  for  me  long  z 


tnnyson,  and  the  rest 


lyland  said,  just  before  they  parted  for  the  night    "'"I  shall 
te  to  Geoige  to-morrow,  and  he  and  yo»  cousin  will  return.  ^ 
n't  look  homesick  so  soon,  my  dear;  you  will  like  Boston 


*Iext  morning  a  Idtig  letter— a  ladys  letters-crossed  and  re- 

ssed,  and  containing  a  detailed  history  of  Miss  Tresyliati's 

,.,    ,    .    adventure,  went  off  to  New  York.     Another  was  posted  for 
I  suppose,  while  I  sii       i  •:.  tr  n        .  •  ■  ... 

\  ■   »yhan  Hall,  contammg  a  similar  account,  and  cohcludinjr : 

ou  read  as  many  noveh 

k)  you  see,  grandpapa  dearest,  as  I  have  only  just  arrived 
e,  you  must  let  me  stay  the  longer.  I  have  seen  nothing  of 
5ton  yet,  and  Mrs.  Wayland  says  I  must  positively  remain  un- 
the  epd  of  March.  You  will  let  me,  won't  you,  grandpapa? 
1,  oh  I  pl«ase  come  on  here  just  as  soon  as  ever  your  health 
p^hnit  .  , 

Irs.  Wiyland;  in  the  absence  of  anything  masculine,  under- 

to  do  the  honors  of  the  " modem  Athens"  herself 
I  first  day  was  spent  ^n  di-^^  through  the  city  and  suburhSf 


>w,  sweet  voice.    Sybi| 
i  lady's  lap,  listened 
ad  thoughts  full  of^ 


fluttering  sig^ 


*( 


Icourse,  Mount  Auburn  was  the  first  place  visited,  and  very 
lutifiil  that  "city  of  the  dead"  loo^,  although 'the  winter 
Iw  lay  piled  white  and  high,  the  i^  dead,  and  |fe|^  trees 

Then  Sybilla  climbed  to  the  top  of  Bunker  Hill  Monument, 
tried  to  feel  patriotic  on  that  dizzy  elevation,  but  was  too 
:h  out  of  breath.     She  performed  a  like  feat  at  the  State 
Inse,  and  returned  home  at  dusk  in  such  a  state  of  fotigue 


ting.  ThenMr.WayU 
as  dull  again,  and  a'^j 
^°^  j^'  ^*^  agaiastfc  sly  was  not  aMe  to  sti^  a»  nert  day. 


dstai.  ,    iLweek  passed.    No  lettet  camfe  from  New  York,  rather  to 

^ '^*'^"^'"*^"  ^surprise  of  Mra.Wayland._Sybma  didnotcar^;  shewent^ 


t    ' 


& 


'  if 


sis 


( 

f 


« **-i^-.  ■.  ',..*^'.iv•t■ '  .^5^ 


■  z  ■.'■%^.m>4 


^^,:U^i..^.-"t':j"' 


altout  t 

to  a  thr^^r  for  the  fiist 


If  had  beel 
•h^i^^tSTlhe 'i^ston— to 
ta-Booth  play  Hamlet  She  ha^  been  to  a  dinner-partj 
t;Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wayland, .looking  lovely  in  fhite  silk  ar 
uls— a  very  Princess  Ful^a.'  And  she  had  been  very  mu< 
''''^mired,  oiF  course,  this  t)r9^.1ittle  Virginia  girl,  heiress  of  fej 
ulous  thousands,  and  with  t^est  blood  of  the  Old  Dominic 
in^her  veins.  She  had  shoppX  anTtaade  calls,  and  gone  to  I 
matinee,  and,  in  short,  had  cr<!^ded  as  much,  enjoyment  inj 
fiv«  days  as  it  was  possiblejfor  fi\4'days  to  contain.  When  Suj 
dtiy  came  she  went  to  a  fephiona^le  church  with  Mrs.  Waylar_ 
fn  grand  tenue,  and  listefned  to  a  feshionable  preacher,  wJ 
whiskors  and  a  snowy  surfplice,  reading  an  elegant  sermon,  ai 
it  yiraS  all  noVel,  and  at  seventeen  novelty  is  deligh^ 

But,  through  all  this  dissipation,  it  seemed  Miss  Tre^lil 
could  remember  gratituide,  for  ego.  Monday  morning  she 
nounced  hej- intention  ot  going  to  see  herlWends  in  Ae  coi 
try.       ■  ■      -       "  • ;.    , -j       v    \    .   .        1       -    •' -      ' 
Mrs.  Waylknd  expostulated  a  little,  but  Miss  Tresylian 


firm. 
.        "I'll  come  back  to-^norro 
promised;  and  j(ou  know, 
|flk^a  promise, 

ik'Uflr  '  ^  SybiJla  '^ent,  with 
cars.  /  On  Tuesday  even 
fcnly  caught  in  a  yo 
"You  runaway !"  he  cri© 


le  said. I    ^'I  pust  go. 
f,  the  T^esylians  never  brej 

•      "/I 
servants /to  see  her  saf^dn 

itne  bad^,  and  in  the  hail 

.rm8.~~ 

tre  yon  have  kept  mjC  sir 


'■V 


'  u.  y-*^      jw  1 


**'/-^| 


J     THE  VlRcmiA  HEIRESS*  .  .„ 

fc.  nigh,  in  a  sute  of  unendurable  suspense.     I  was  jus.  g,i„g  ' 
J^s^rch  of  you.     You  li.„e  witch  I  how  well  you  are  look 

Sybilla  had  come  in  rosy  with  the  frosty  air,  but  "now,  as  sh^- 
^m     h-lffromEusta^,  her  cheeks  had  grown  white. 

When  did  you  come  f  she  asked,  &intly  ' 
■'^t  „^ht     I  started  U.e  n,on,e„t  I  hear^  you  w.„  here." 

HasMr.  Waylandcome,  too?"       .        ^- 

••  Ves;  he  is  up  stairs  in  the  diawinfe-room.     Come  " 

Of  couiv,,  life  was  gayer  than  m*.  now  that  the  young  gen 

lemen  had  re&med.     No,  ,hat  the  young  lady  of  sevlfeen 

fought  Mr.  peo.;ge  Wayland  young.     Thirty  was  a  ve„e.ble 

S.  to  her,  and  then  there  was  something  about  him  that  awed 

d  ,mpr«sed  her.     She  liked  him,  W  she  was  a  little  af™d 

ler.  practiced  wrth  .mpunit)-  on  others,  Med  out  of  sight  when 
ecamen^r  ,nd  Sybill^  ,^„,,^  «  - 

Ind,  "tried  to  be  goody,  and  ttik  sense."        '      •  ' 

A  few  days  after  their  anival  there  was  a  biM  .,  «,.  Wayhuid 
ansjo.  Sybi!*.'s,r«.&ll,  What  an  even.  U»,  was'lt 
okherlKomf„„,oyock..,^gh„odress;  b„t,whenshe« 

bmedown  the  result  fclly  justiBed„the  e^diture of  .im.. 

k^phgh.^  hustod  look*la»h.r«if  hejiad  sMntTfer      ' 

fea".y.    W»,Udd,.wear,.  ^owc».I,teU?.Sh.wr.U    . 


»  ,,  »  '^  • ~—*.      <T(|«      till 

,  ^  irvi    r  u      ^^'«»»«^^ilmrla«.nhfilifieb6kedlikcir 

.f  have  kept  mp  sif  "^  ^^  ^^  ^"^^  «'  »  N»iad  Queen,  or  an  Undine,  <»r  Venw 


■'■  H 


'  1 


,i: 


V.°;,.;kA^.-fkl-^:  J-y((4'-kU?:,,/     ,'*\^   ■.v;'^^-,--  V"'.  *■ 


C\ , 


.1' 


/: 


86 


r^£;  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 
fi^h  from  thf  white  sea  fc^m.     There  were  hI„«K 

ne  tack  all  Uie  pretty  ch«tn»t  cork    Y«,  she  was  lovely  ». 

rifrr.!^  ■"'"'"'""''■«•    She  danced,  she  J 
-  ^  ifte  ^ned  on  the  arm  6f  Mr.  Wayland,  Jr.,  and  talked  L  ,h, 
,g».en^.ith  a»  the  g.vit,  she  couH  must^  wLt  f 

e  «   '^/-n.eun.«  .gh  and  look  after  th^  my  lUtle  b„.L 
»l«i    There  were  dozens  of  sensible  ^„ng  ladles  present  li, 

/  Z^tZ"'  "1?  r^  "'*-"^"  *«  -~t 

■  teve  2      ^  7  ?'"  """■«■"  "■••  ^'^'  ^>^'-«  would 
„  h«ve  4e  „gh,  for  ftem.    B«.  no;  people  will  never  do  as 

^-''■^-or.als.oulde.pect  in  jhese  matte.,  and  Z^J, 
M,„  TVesrlan  had  left  Um  to  walt^he  waltzed  with  even- 

-"Grandpapa-,  not  he«,  and  I  will  doS^s  I  please  l'  I'm  no. 

»amed>^,.Mr.Tres,lianl     Vo^  go  and  ™lu  wi«.  ev  ;ir 
M  T'  'I»""'P'''^r»-i'»«/»'«'.'fi.it«fe,e."- 
M.SS  Wn  seemed  bent  on  "doing as. hT pleased,'* 

■nOKTOys  tlianwaltzinji.     When,..  -  ■  f      «i,   « 


;lothes 
lim. 

"Yo 
imestl 

"Of 

p^Some 
iQsee  h 

"Yo 


T«fain,  she  informed  them  she 


i»Bra  week  aAeMheiri 
was  going  back,  to  the  country  to  j 


^•Yes 


I  "•^•''^'•e    .^y  ■«.-    i\ 


were  blush  roses  an 
J,  and  a  diamond  nee 
d  a  tiara  of  gems  clasp 
is,  she  was  lovely,  ^ti 
and  she  turned  abo 
She  danced,  she  sang] 
ttle  coquettes  do,  an 
fr.,  and  talked  to  tha 
,  muster.     When  sh 

little  sigh,  jnd  stob 
and  reverend  seign 
fse  silly  liftle  butter 
ig  ladies  present,  lit- 
the  romance-writing 
oi^e  Wayland  would 
lie  will  never  do  as 
tters,  and  your  great 
le  common  herd, 
waltzed  with  every 

the  willful  beaut} 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


8l 


end  a  couple  of  days,  Eustace  again  attempted  to « interfere, 
y  biila's  eyes  hashed,  and  her  color  rose. 

''Eustace  Tresylian,  be  so  good  as  to  let  me  alone.     I  tell 
»u  I  Tvill  go. " 

"But;  Sybilla— -"  ' 

"I  will  go  to-morrow !"  said  Sybilla,  sweeping  out  of  the 

.m. 

And  go  she  did,  and  remained  two  days.     Eustace,  fiftding 
he  would  go,  had  volunteered  to  escort  her.  * 

"I  don't  want  you  1"  returned  the  youug  lady;  "I  prefef  go-^ 
ig  alone  1"  ~~  -~_  y 

Eustace  was  at  the  Worcester  depot  when  the  train  came  in,- 
le  second  evening.     Sybilla  came  out  among  the  rest,  with  a, 
ill,  dirk,  and  remarkably  handsome  young  man.     He  was  well 
Iressed,  but  there  was  a  certain  countryfied  air  both  about  his 


>; 


:lothes  and  manners.     Eustace  approached,  but  neither  saw 
lim.  ^  j 

"You  will  be  sure  to  come? '  he  heard  the  young  noan  say, 
imesitly.**<  '  /  * 

"Of  course,"  Sybilla  answered ;  "have  I  ever  MlecJ  yet?" 
[i^ome  one  t<^hed  her  on  the  arm.     She  turned  hJ^«ltily  round 
tQ  see  her  c^sy  ^         •-"'■■  "'' ■ 

"  You  hl^Eustace  I"  she  exclaimed,  coolly.     "Were  yoo 

liting  for  me?" 

''Yes;''ffi6r  co\^7~**T^c^''Mm—xht  carriage  Is  twiit^^  - 
f ng.    i  wii^lieve you,  rir,  of  yout  task."        ' 


\ 


ft*' 


,-_'-^.  . 


■im^y 


kL 


'"''W- 


82 


r/f£  VIRGINIA  Ih 


'sA^ 


ss. 


The  y0j 


^ 


le  a  iifimne^bat  confused  bow,  and  retn 
ed.     Eustace  l^d  he/*straight  to  the  carriage  without  speakin 

"Who  is  that  fellow?"  he  asked,  when  they  were  shut  in, 
''What  fellow?"  angrily. 
"That  fellow  who  was  with  you  just Jhow." 
"  I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  going  with  fellows.     That  g 
man  was  a  friend  of  mine. " 

"  Thzt  genlkman,  with  country  clod  written  alPover  him, 
singular  friena  for  Miss  Tresylian  to  pid^  up.     Who  is  ,|ji£ ?" 

"I  shall  not  tell  you  1".  ^  ; 

*/»Sybilla!"   ■'  '  -  "        - 

•'I  will  not !"  cri^^  Sybilla,  passionately ;  "and  I  tpll  yj 
Eustace  Tresylian,  if  you  don't  let  me  al^^e  I'll  break  off 
you  le^-mwrow  I     I  rvm't  be  ordered — I  zvon'/  be  dictated  t| 
Mipd  your  oifn  business,  and  let  me  alone  1" 

Tnis  was  i  settler.     Eustace  relapsed  into  sulky  silence. 

Miss  Tresylian  sat  with  eyefs  that  fished  and  cheeks  that  bum 

il  they  rattM  down  ^IpCon  street,  and  were  at  hcmie. 

There  wsw  aletter%6m  Virgiak^awafting  'hery-a  long  leti 

froni  grai^pa^JlF^fife  was  deeply  sb^^ed  at  her  accident,  u 

^    speakayifcankful  tUat  it  was  no  woi^,  and  rejoiced  to  he 

^  ^e  wa^^poytH;  life  so  much.     As  for  himself,  he  was  but 

tie  bette^^  the  probabilities  wei«  that  it  would  be  March  befo 

he  was  fit  to  travel.     Meantime,  she  was  to  go  on  enjnying  hi 


sel^  and  writing  long  letters,  and  the  w«eks  would  soon  go  I 
-  She  was  to  give  his  love  to  Eustace  aitd  Mrs.  Wayland.    M 


■fi 


il. 


'SS. 


rriage  without  speaking 


len  they  were  shut  jn. 


tliow." 

th  fellows.     That  g 


written  alPover  him, 
up.     Who  is  .^p  ?" 


••,'WJ- 


•V 


TVZff  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


83 


lonfused  bow.  and  retre   S^al^ron.  Eleanor,  and  the  servants  sent  their  best  regards  to 

ler  ;  and  he  w*s  her 

Ixjving  grandfather,     " 

George  P.  Tresylian. 
There  was  a  bank-check  for  a  large  amount  in  this,  which 
Sybilla  put  hastily  away,  and  read  ^d  re-read  the  letter. 

"Dear,  dear  grandpapa!"  she  thought,  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  ' 
how  good  he  is  good  to  me,  and  I — oh  1  what  a  wicked,  un- 
'  '    grateful  wretch  I  am  !     I  wish  I  could  be  good— I  wish  I  could 
please  him— J  wish  I  could  be  fond  of  Eustace ;  but  I  am  only 
a  willful,  selfih  creature,  and  I  can't/"  , 
The  ignging  of  the  dinner-bell  aroused  Sybilla,  lying  with  her 
id  oil  the  table  crying  softly.     She  must  go  down,  so  she 
bSl^ei^her  red  eyes,  and  shook  out  her  crumpled  robes,  and 
descoBd,  and  was  on  her  good  behavior  all  the  evening.    She 
went  and  sat  down  beside  Eustace,  and  talked  to  him,  and  tried 
her  best,  poor  child,  to  be  sensible,  and  womanly,  and  agree- 
able, aind  she  played  and  sang  all  his  favorite  songs.     It  rather 
perplexed  Mr.  Eiistace  Tresylian,  this  docile  goodne^jSS.He 


iat?ly ;  "and  I  tpU 
al^e  I'll  break  off 
—I  won't  be  dictated  t| 
done  1" 

d  into  sulky  silence, 
1  and  cheeks  that  bumq 
and  were  at  h<Hne. 


afting:1ie>^long  letl  «^ever  was  subject  to  spasmbdic  fits  of  repentance  an 

,-  '-'■^  u: xc  .sr.A  AkAn't  niiit-A  iinHprssfand  them  in  Other  tX 


^ed  af^her  accident,  u 
rse,  and  rejoiced  to  he 
tr  himself,  he  was  but  1 
it  would  be  March  befo 
as  to  go  on  enjtyingJK 


himself,  and  didn't  quite  understand  them  in  other  pee»pte. 

February  drew  to  an  end,  and  March  came  in  "like  a  lion," 
roaringlike  Bottom  the  weaver,  "so  that  it  would  do  any  man's 
heart  g&d  to  hear  him."  The  snow  fluttered  wildly  in  white 
drifts  past  the  windows,  and  the  sleighing  was  sublime.    Sybilla 


was  taking  grandpapaTaavTce,  ana~enj(^iHg^  fiefselt^  It  ww 
balls»  and  parties,  and  the,  theater,  and  dressing,  and  driving 


:M 


weeks  would  soon  go  \ 
fd  Mn.  Wayland.    M 

■w 


;aEs»s*a«g?w?i 


u 


■  \ ':  *:K-Tiiff**55=;y>? 


U 


M 


m^ 


f^m- 


tim  viRGrmA  heiress 


84 

and   skatijg  all  the  time.     She  was  quite  a  belle  among  thi 
belles  of  ^oston ;  but  young  men  who  fell  in  love  discovered 
she  was  enjgaged  to  her  cousin,  and  fell  out  again.     She  rathel 
snubbed  ^ustace  than  otherwise-her  fit  of  penitence,  like  your, 
and  mme(  and  other  people's,  evaporated  in  next  day's  sun 
8h.ne-anld  she  was  bad,  and  self-willed,  and  imperious,  and  ob 
stmate.  a|d  anything  else  that  is  disagreeable  and  wicked   tj 
her  prom^ed  husband.     She  had  her  own  way  in  everything^ 
.^.  ^tzed  |much  as  she  pleased,  and  with  whom  sh^  pj 
,^  She^yent  tosee  her  country  friends  as  often  as  she  ch\,se  anJ 
sometime  staid  there  days  at  a  time.    She  flirted  des^r^telyj 
and,  ,n  the  most  decided  way.  declined  being  monopolized  b;. 
her  cousin.     She  was  wild  with  the  excitement  of  her  L  life 
and  bent  on  crowding  all  the  dissipation  possible  into  th^e  few 
weeks. 

The  middle  of  March  came.  The  letten  to  and  from  Vir-I 
g.n«  we„  „g„tar  a.  clock-work.  Gmndpapa  was  getting  bel- 
ter, and  would  be  in  Boston  by  the  fim  of  April  .0  take  her 
home.  Eustace  had  written  an  account  of  Miss/s  goings  on 
and  gm„dp.pa  was  getting  alarmed.  He  would  remain  but  a 
week,  he  wrote,  so  she  was  to  be  all  ready  when  he  arri«d 
M.SS  T,«ylian  was  ve^-  silent  and  thoughtful  the  evening  af- 

n««  dayfor  the  county-.  She  remained  until  the  following 
.venrng,  «d  returned  even  m6re  silent  and  thoughtful  than 
When  she  left. 


^^arffitti^ore  away;  and  she'^h^^  -ore.    Day 


IT 


.  t»o.'^' 


-4 


J'' 


I,    .    It*- 


4:    i\ 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS.  '  85 

day  the  last  fortnight  passed.  April  c^me,  and  the  fourth  of 
bat  month  brought  grandpapa. 

Sybilla  flew  into  his  arms  ia  a  sort  of  rapture.  A  little  pale 
nd  thin  from  his  recent  illness,  but  stately  and  han&me  in 
fis  upright  old-age  still,  and  indescribably  glad  to  hold  his  iitUe 
|rl  in  his  arms  once  more. 

'  You  have  lost  your  roses  since  you  left  home,  my  darling," 
eold  man  said,  fondly,  "and  you  have  grown  thin.  Whit 
it?" 

Sybilla  hid  her  face  in  his  bosom,  feeling  a  hysterical  choking 
•i  her  throat. 

"Nothing,  grandpapa,  only  I  have  been  so  dissipated,  I  sup- 
ose.  Oh,  grandpapa  1  did  you  miss  me  very  much?" 
"Very,  very  much,  my  darling.  So  much  that  I  think  I  will 
ever  let  you  out  of  my  sight  again.  What !  ciying,  Sybilla? 
jodlish  child,"  with  tears  in  his  own  eyes;  "come,  lift  that 
Illy  little  head,  and  tell  me  how  is  Eustace."  - 

Mrs.  Wayland  and  her  husband  did  their  utmost  to  prevail 
bon  Mr.  Tresylian  to  remain  over  the  week,  but  in  vain.  H^, 
las  resolute  to  go,  and  Sybilla  made  no  effort  to  change  his  d<jr ,' 
Irmination.  The  day  before  that  appointed  for  leaving,  she' 
\V\  him  she  must  go  to  the  cfiuntiy  to  see  and  bid  her  friends  - 
3od-by.  "S£%h  '     • 

She  was  standing  by  the%^^  gazing  out  as  she  spoke,  an^"  !| 
IcvGr  turned  her  face.  "  ' 


'     I 


•4  • 


I 


eif  once  more.    Day  I  ""^?^^^^^e.  oTcouree, "  Mr.  Tresylian  said,  cordially  ;«neii. 

forget  your  friends,  my  dear.     Who  is  to  go  with  you?" 


7 . 1  "I 


4 


■>.  ■^i,J^ 


■m 


.1^ 


1  lii 


•  :i  I 


»6 


/ 


r 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


-  "No  one,  grandpapa;  I  always  go^  there  alone.  They 'a 
poor  people,  you  know,  and  don't  care  ^r  visitore.  I  will  b 
back  this  evening. "  ■ 

Miss  Tresylian  went.  In  the  mild  twilight  of  the  April  d 
she  returned,  and,  months  afterward,  all  retaembered  ho 
white  and  ghost-like  she  had  gttded  in  among  them,  soulilik 


herself  that  even  then  they  wondered,     All  that  evening,  ^al 


The 


ay  c 
>und 
hue. 
'■'De 


and  silent,  she  sit  at  grandpapa's  feet  on  a  little  stool;  with 
Shadow  on  her  face  never  seen  |here  before.^    There  wa5  a  din 
ner-party  at  the  house,  and  late 'in  the  evening,  when  Mrs.  Way  l"Ip 
land  played,  there  Was  dancing.     EustS^je  came  up  to  t^ke  Sy 
billa  out  for  a  walt^,  but  she  shrank  from  his  extended  ||an 

"^o,  no  !"  she  said  ;  "  I  can't  dance  to-night     I  ajn 
and  my  head  aches. "  ,  ^  '  "^     a 

There  was  sympath>  and  a  fui  directly,  but  Miss  IWknLr  ol( 
only  wanted  rest  and  quiet,  she  said.     So  she  wenf  up  ^jk  \.^  ig 
chamber,  not  f^ing  up^irs  singing  like  a  skylark,  as  ^Sl^bs 
wont,  but  slowly  and  ^dffi(iy,  as  if  worrioilt.  \stx\i 

Late  that  night,  befS^  retiring  hferself,  Mrs.  Wayland 'stofclLg  c 
into  her  room  to  see  if  she  slept     Tfaegas  burned  low,  bXcal 
bnghtly  enough  for  her  to  see.     Yes,  she  ^ppt,  1»erhead  pillge 
lowed  on  her  arm.  her  fiir  hair  a||  disordered,  he*  pillpW  andlh  k 
eyelashes  wet  with  tears.  "  *  A    -^ 

"Poor  child  !"  Mrs.  Wayl^nd  thcigtt,  kissing  her  softlvlyb'S 
"she  is  is  60  sensitive,  and  she  feels  tfcis  parflngso  much^hjone 


cri^  Irerself  tO'STeep " 


\\: 


%.tf 


br( 


'  "«v ' 


r  i    , 


'ening,  when  Mrs.  Way 
K^  came  up  to  t^ke  Sy 
m  his  extended  liani 
■  to-night     I  a^n 

I 
tty,  but  Miss 

So  she  wenf  up 
te  a  skylark,  as  was 
oiit 


TffJS  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


8; 


*f 


vS. 


fRESS.. 

there  alone.     They/a 
e  ^r  Visitors.     I  will  b 

wijight  of  the  April  da 

all   retnembered   ho 

among  them,  sa  unlik 

All  that  eyenihg,  ^al 

on  a  little  stool;  with 

fore.i    There  was  a  dinjrhe  "sacred  soil "  was  green  with  teijder  new  grass,  and  the 

e.  spring  flowers  were  all  in  bloom  ground  Tresylian  Hall, 
ay  calm  in  the  warm  April  sunlight,  W^th  its  stately  old  trees* 
und  it,  as  Mr.  and  Miss  Tresylian  ditove  up  the  long,  shady 
hue,;'!      .,^.  '         ,  *^ 

'"'Dear  old  home  I"  Sybilla  said,  her  eyos  sparkling,  "and 
br  old  Virginia !     It  is  very  fine  up  thf ie  at  the  North,  but 


CHAPTEIi'  VII 


AT     HOME. 


Te  is  no  place  like  home. "  I 

|Mh.  Waldron,  in  rustling  black  silt,  Stood  in  the  hall  to  r^- 
ve4hem.  Miss  Waldron  did  not  take  the  trouble.  She  M^k 
ill,  Mrs.  Wayland  stokling  over  an  embroidery  frame  when'  the^jjjlntered,  and  arose 
e  gas  burned  low,  butih  calnj  politeness  to.  welcome  the  maata»  :^nd  mistress  of  the 
he  slppt,  liefhead  pilluse.  Mr.  Eustace  she  acknowledged  Jby  b  cold  bo#,  and 
>rdered,  he*  pillp>#  aji()§h  rttreated  to  her  seat  inthe  wind<W^recei8,  and  went  on 

,        ojtirtg  hfix  stitched  a^  placicHy  a^  ever. '  { 
nt,  kissing  her  spftl^.Jj^bina  was  out  amopg  the  servants,  ^Jjiiking  hands,  and  kiss- 
parflng  so  muchj  AlM  oncor  two,  and  telling^  them  bf  thft  h^ty  of  pre^^ents  shm 


4. 


n 


brought  thenji^  iVom  Boston.     The^'«|)e  had  to  visit  her 
9^^  and  ber  pet  dogs^'and'her  rabbits,  and  pigfo^,  for  %]^% 


^''■1    '1 


.^*; 


*.  P 


.■nyt 


»-*■ 


%•, 


-\1 


I '. 


1 1 


I  I 


;   t 


r 


I 


88 


TlfE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS.  < 


had  pets  of  all  sorts,  and  then,  tired  and  breathless,  she  was 
in  her  room  getting  dressed. 

Eustace  Tresylian  remained  only  a  week  at  the  hall.     He 
going  to  New  York,  there  to  remain  until  the  dose  of  Ju 
when  he  would  return,  to  stay  by  his  bride  until  the  weddi 
day  in  August,  and  then  part  no  more  forever. 

Miss  Waldron,  silent  and  still,  and  quietly  observant- 
your  silent  and  still  people  areU-noticed  that  he  and  Miss  '1 
sylian  were  remarkably  unlover-like  for  two  so  soon  to  be  unit 
To  Miss  Waldron  there  was  an  undefinable  change  in  the  v( 
tile  JIttle  heiress  since  her  letiam  from  the  North,  and  one 
of  this  change  was  her  persistent  avoidlnce  of  her  affianced  h 
band.     It  was  quite  diplomatic  the  way  she  dodged  him  wi 

.    out  seeming  to  do  it     The  walks,  the  rides,  the  drives,-  wh 
^  he  was  wont  to  play  cavalier,  were  no  more  ;  grandpapa,  or 
(Miss  Waldron),  made  invariably  a  third  party.     Sybiila  1 

'  contracted  a  sudden  friendship,  it  seemed,  for  the  housekeep 
daughter,  and  insisted  on  her  accompanying  them  whengrai 
papa  was  absent  or  engaged.  Jt  puzzled  and  perplexed  E 
tace,  who  could  not  quite  comprehend  whether  it  was  the  wo 
of  chance  or  design.     Sybiila  seemed  to  have  slipped  like 

'  shadow  or  a  dream  from  his  hands,  how  or  wherefore.|ie  cou 
not  tell.     It  might  be  the  giri's  natural  coquettishness,  k  ipi 
Jbe  maiden  coyness,  ft  might  be  woman's  spirit  ot  contrariei 
but  Eleahor  did  ndt  think  sp.     To  her  mind  some  deeper  m 


\\x\\ 
Isi 

CUli 

le  HI 

Yoi 

Be  ( 


\ 


ear 

e  w 

If,; 

_.sta 

M 

r. 

tsi 
bi 

;ha] 

^o. 

re, 

^es. 

Vill 

m( 

do 

ph. 

CO 

an 


eMfaem 
tti^^fcsl 


fen 


live  lay  at  tHeliottom,  vEIcE^oa 
The  evening  before  his  departdi^ 


saw. 
itace  sought  out  i 


h© 


^E/RESS. . 

an(l  breathless,  she  was 


5e 


I  week  at  the  hall.  He 
in  until  the  close  of  Ju 
s  bride  until  the  weddi 
re  forever. 

and  quietly  observant 
iced  that  he  and  Miss  '1 
>r  two  so  soon  to  be  unit 
finable  change  in  the  v( 
\  the  North,  and  one 
d^nce  of  her  affianced  h 
way  she  dodged  him  w 
he  rides,  the  drives,-  wh 
I  more  ;  grandpapa,  or 
third  party.     Sybil  la  1 
med,  for  the  housekeep 
anying  them  when  grai 
izzled  and  perplexed  E 
id  whether  it  was  the  wo 
ed  to  have  slipped  like 
low  or  wherefore  4ie  cou 
il  coquettishness,  it  ipi 
nan's  spirit  ol  contrariel 
ermind  some  deeper  m 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


/ 


89 


ii>,  and  found  her  in  the  library  alone.     She  started  up  in 
iusk  at  sight  of  him. 

Js  it  you,  Eustace  ?    Have  you  seen  Eleanor  ?    I  want  her 
culafly."      vV  ■       ^  .  • 

le  wa^  gliding  past  him,  but  he  caught  her  fast 
You  always  want  her,  or  somebody  else,  when  /want  ybu. 
dispi^hse  with  Miss  Waldron  for  the  next  ten  minutes, 
ear — I  l^ave  something  to  say  to  you." 
e  was  fairly  cornered.     With  an  impatient  jerk  she  freed 
If,  and  sat^  down  again  in  her  chair, 
istace  leaned  against  the  chimney-piece,  and  looked  down 
The  gliB^mering  twilight  showed  him  her  fitir  hair  and 
t  silk  dress,  ipd  the  snowy  gleaming  of  het  hkre  arips  and 


but  not  the  «(xpression  of  her  lace,  avertedfrom  the  win- 


\ 


% 
K* 


J 


(hall  we  have  lights?    It  is  getting  dark. 
^o,"  said  Sybilla,  sharply  and  shortly. 

re  you  aware,  Sybilla,  I  go  to-morrow^" 
^es."      ^  '   /\         .     .  ■  V   _ 

Vill  you  have  the  goodness  to  tell  mej  before  I  leave,  what 

meaning  of  your^hanjjfed  conduct?"  '  ^■ 

don't  understand  'you,\'  pettishly.' 
)h,  yes,  you  do,  my  dea\l    You  have  not  been  over  and 

cordial  since  our  meeting  in  Boston,  but  you  hav6  been 
an  cordial  Since  we  came  here./   What  have  I  done  ?*'      ' 


V*- 


Tv] 


/)' 


)on'<i  be  abswd  1    Notiiingr^'-^^ 
'hen  why  are  you  so  changed?" 


■     •  i 


era  saw. 
stace  sought  out 


««"«-j* 


h 


'.4- 


I  *    ti 


t 

■      '*'     ', 


,  ^"^  -'I'fi^ 


!Mn 


!]>- 

i 


4 : 

Ml  ! 


^- 


90 


*     THE  VIRCmiA  HEfRBSS. 


"  I  am  not  changed  I    I  don't  fancy  billing  and  cooing,  tli 
is  all.     I  don't  fdel  like  playing  the  role  of  turtle-dove,  and| 
won't  J    Don't  make  yourself  ridiculous,  Eustace  1" 

Eustace  Tresylian's  fece  flushed  angiy  red,  but  he  paused 
a  moment  to  control  himselL 

"  I  Was  not  aware  I  was  making  myself  ridiculous.  In  AJ 
gust  you  are  to  be  my  wife,  and  I  think  it  is  only  naturall 
should  kno>y  the  meaning  of  this  steady  avoidance" 

Sybilla  started  to  her  feet,  and  he  could  sefe  the«|>assidna 
flashing  of  her  angry  eyes  even  in  the  twilight 
ii  "  Cousin  liustace,^  she  cried,  vehemently,  '•  uviUyim  let 
^one  ?.  Ever  since  that  wretched  engagement  took  place,  yd 
ha^'  been  dictating  to  me,  and  interfering  with  me,  and  ma 
ing  ypurself  hateful  unjil  I  cangt  bear  the  sight  of  you  I  I 
^u  i  won't  have  it  I"  stamping  her  foot;  "and  I  wam.you, 
^e  last  time,  to  let  me  alone.  Yo^  have  no  anthorf^  0^ 
i&e,  and,  wfiat  is  more,  you  never  tvi/l/'*    * ' 

.She  was  gone  like  a  flash. 

An  hour  after,  Eustace  Tresylian  came  out  of  the  jibr 
very  J)a'le  and  stem,  and  sought  the  drawing-room.     Only 
Waldron  was  there--^billa  was  in  her  roopa,  her  grandfet 
^  atnent,  and  Mrs.  Waldron  was  bu^  looking  over  her  houij 
keeping  accounts.        ^  „  '       ^  .   ly 

■  EustaCrleti  at  dftybpik  n«ct  morning,  before  any^  the -faj 


!■  H 


1 ,.     '  i 


^ wCTe  stinfiig,  and  ate^u ^tr^Ufittt  wtB  a  iji^B^^rowl 

dismid  ftoUtudo;  ? 

-  .■>'     '  "•,  '    ■ , 


.V 


,-  •--..- ^ 


t.:. 


1  '■If  c -u  -tsWiJFriW^g^s 


■'Ji   H 


'     .■<?■■ 


7Z^^  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


9« 


It  was  Sybilla's  turn  ^ow.     Tlie  spoiled  heiress  could  do  as 
she  liked  ;  but  wait  un/il  she  was  fairly  his  wife— aw/?/ 

Eustace  gone,  life  at  Tresylian  Hall  flowed  back  into  it§  o|d 
monotonous  channe/  One  would  have  thought  ^hat  Sybi^Ji, 
wont  to  complain  o/  the  dullness  of  exi3tenM|before  she  knefv. 
any  other,  would  have  found  it  doubly  dlS  now,  after  hir 
Northern  experieiice.  Butev^ts  never  do  turn  out  iij  this  world  of 
contrarieties  as  reasonable  mortals  like  you  and  I  might  expeat,. 
Svbiila  made  no  complaints  of  the  monotohy,"and  accepted  her 
Iife.w4thoui  a  murmur.  The  change  Eleinor  Waldron  had  np- 
'ticed  in  her  was  more  marked  than  ever/  She  was  no  longer 
the  disturbing  element  of  the  hbuse,  flying  brefezily  up  and  down 
stairs:  banging  door^  and  singing  like  a  skylark  from  morning 
till  night.  ■    V  ■ 

No,  Miss  Waldronlwr^f  wa?  not  more  staid  and  quiet  than 
the  little  heiress  now.  Her  horse  and.  her  dogs  wer^,  no  longer 
the  delight  of  her  heart— even  her  boolcs  failed  in  their. attrat- 
tion.  She  had  fallen  into^a  habit  df  day-dreaming,  and  would 
lie  for  hours  amolig  the  pillows  of  a  lounge,  with  Her  hands 
dasp^over  herli^ad,  her  eyes  fixed  on, the  opposite  wall,  list-*^ 
eniiig  t^^Eteaaor  play, 

Miss  Waldron,  sitting  quietly  at'the  piano,  would  have 'gi^en, 
a  good  deal  to  know  the  tehor  6f  these  dreams;  but  Sybilla, 
I  open  as  the  day^efofe/ could  keep  her  own  secret  in  this  mat- 
jjer,  it  seemed,  for  Eleanor  corild  learii  nothing 


Others  noticed  the  alteration  in  her,,  too.    Granapapa  con- 
Igratulated  himself  that,h|i4i{tle  girl  w*  becoming  a  we>nuui  a| 


*  \ 


•  *., 


.-'•"^ 


i 


lr# 


t 


L 


•i 

'  1  j 


•* 


s:.'..^  % 


'>'f-'-:*f^ 


■' 

V. 

■  ,•:.#': 

» 

■  1 

?. 

>>f:,^ 

.»          -r^, 

<j', 

-5 

■.■J^\ 


,  « 


9* 


111. 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRS SS. 


last,  and  yet-it  was  veiy  inconsistent-he  missed  -the  little 
ivrhirlwind  that  us§d  to  stir  up  their  stagnant  fife.  He  missed 
the  chattering  tongue;  the  resUess  feet,  the  shrill  scraps  of  songs 
the  busy  interest  in  horses,  dogs,  a^  darkey  babies,  although  he 
tned  to.  persuade  himself  he  was  better  pleased  with  the  silent 
dreamer  he  had  in  her  pfece. 

One  thing  was  unchanged-the  old  willfulness.     Miss  Tre-, 
syhan  would  not  write  to  her  cousin.     In  vain  notes  by  the 
dozen  came  from  Eustace,  in  vain  grandpapa  expostulated.    The 
young  lady  was  inexorable.    .- 

"What's  the  use,  grandpapa?"  she  would  ciy  out,  imj^tient- 
ly ;  "I  have  nothing  to  say  to  him,  and  I  hate  letter  writing  t| 
You  can  tell  him,  when  j.^  write,  that  I  am  well,  and  that  is 
enough !"  , 

Miss  Tresylian  might  hate  letter  writing,  but  she  cemLly 

wrote  to  some  one,  and  very  long  lettere,  at  that     Miss  Wal- 

dron  it  was  who  discovered  jhis  feet     Late  into  the  night  Sy- 

billa's  lamp  burned,  and  Eleanor,  passing  her  door  so%  had 

distinctly  heard  the  scratching  of  a  pen.     I  don't  know  whether 

It  was  eavesdropping  or  not.  but  it  w«^  something  like  it    Once 

.she  had  been  nearly  caught,  when  Sybilla.  opening  her  door 

hastily,  ran  down  %\m%  for  something  she  had  forgotten.     Miss 

Waldron  just  saved  feeraelf  by  retreating  behind  a  cabinet     It 

WM  late  at  night,  aM  had  retired,  but  lamps  burned  the  night 

grough  intheyrridors  of  <he  old  mangJoa.     Miss  Waldmn 

/lippod  into  Ort^  uiiauiber  wm  the  rapidi^of  Hghtning;  ^ 

BMde  aa  aj^Iii%  4Moi^ 


JJ55-.T  i^^jt      |- 


«- 


JBfW. 


r/^^  VlRGn^IA  HEIRESS. 


9? 


■// 


The  loose  sheets  of  a  long,  long  letter  lay  scattered  over  tl)« 

able.     Her  eye,  lighted  on  the 'first^^      "     '       ,«  /. 

>,     ^  ■  '      /    ' 

)eaREST,  DeaI^EST   RiCHAILP,:  .^  .  / 

r  received  your  letter  yesteffday,  and  you  cannot  possibly  long 
lo  see  me  .more  than  I  long  to  see  yo«.     But  1  dare  nott^^ — 

That  was  all  she  had  time  to  read.  ^  /    - 

Quick). light  footsteps  were  pattering  over  the  marble  of  the 
lower  halj[^  and  she  flitted  out  and  hid  behind  the  cabinet  as 
bybilla  ran  up  again  and  disappeared  in  her  own  room. 

Miss  Waldron  did  not  sleep  a  wink  that  night  What  was 
[his  mystery?  Who  was  "dearest,  dearest  Richard?"  I^as 
not  very  hard  to  fethora.  Miss  Tresylian  was  false  to  .her 
blighted  vows— she  had  formed  an  underhand  attachment  at,^he  ^ . 
^orth,  and  here  was  the  secret  of  all  her  changed  conduct 
'Richard"  was  some  brainless  dandy,  some  scented  fop.  whose 
brains  lay  in  his  heels,  and  who  had  danced  himself  into  her  af-  . 
ieccions. 

"Some /dainty,  elegant  cres^t^re,"  thought  Miss  W^dron, 
with  a  |:urling  lip;    "some  perfumed  dry-goods  clerk,  velyT^ 
fikely.     After  all,  she  may  not  marry  Eustace  Tresylian." 
The  blood  rushed  into  her  cold,  still  &ce  at  the  tho^rfit    As 
luch  as  it  was  in  her  »elfish,  secretive,  passionate  nature  to  care 
or  any  one,  she  cared  for  this  map. 

"  He  likes  me  a  thoasand  times  better  than  he  does  her,"  she 
[thought,  ' '  jmd  who  knows  what  may  come  of  it  ?    Mr.  T»esyi^ 


) 


Of  lightaing,  sod  ^n  will  celt^tBly  remember  Wm  handsomely  in  his  will,  mrf, 
although  i^e  is  only  a  poor  lawyer,  it  will  ke  much  better  tfaam  ; 


>'  -v 


'I;  ;•■ 


h  ■»  di* ': 


j.^rlj*    ,^     ,  t*«€t^  .,  .' 


y. 


I 


H,|   1, 


li  ! 


I 


94 


'J       nr£  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 

Che  drudgeo^  of  t«»ching.     If  ^ny^ing  happens.  I  may  writ! 
my  nameTresylian,  yet"  '    1 

She  sat  down  by  the  window  and  looked  out  at  thestarlJ 
%.  8U11  musing.     How  had  Sybilla  received  a  letter  yesterday! 
None  had  come  to  the  house  for  her.     All  of  a  sudden  she  re 
membered  that  Miss  Tr^ylian  had  walked  over  to  TaunioJ 
yesterday  affemoon.     Could  it  be  that  her  letters  from  Richardl 
were  directed  to  the  post-officeP    She  was  in  the  habit  of  walk- 
ing ^to.  Taunton  pretty  frequently  since  Tier  ret«m  from  the 
.  North.     Now  here  was  the  motiv^. 

"Iwill  watch  her  tomorrow,"  mused  Miss  Waldron  •  "she| 
will  be  porting  this  precious  document.     01^,  mv  pretty,  fasd- 
natmg  httle  Sybilla,  my  time  may  come  at  las»f 

The  housekeeper  s  daughter  kept  a  furtive  but  ceaseles^  watch 
upon  Miss  Tresylian  all  day.  That  young  lady  spent  the  morn- 
ing dawdling  from  room  to  room  in  a  lost,  languid  sort  of  way 
and  lay  on  the  lounge  and  asked^  Elean6r  to  >lay  for  her  I't 
was  a  rainy,  windy  day.  the  closed  Ap^l,  with  mud,  and  dreari- 
^nesB,  and  discomfort  everywhere  out  of  doors.  ^ 

I  "Shewill  send  Lucy,  her  maid."  thought  Eleanor;  -she 
will  never  walk  to  Taunton  such  weather  as  thi/. " 

■  Miss  Waldron  was  mistaken.  Young  ladie/in  love  are  capa- 
ble of  all  sorts  of  aots  of  self-abnegation,  /immediately  Ifter 
lundheon.  whjm-  Mr.  Tresj-lian  was  writii,/  in  his  sttidy.  a«d 
Mr&  Wddron  islt^p  in  her  easy-chair.  Syfeilla  flitted  down  the, 
Qum  sicp^  hi  he,  plainest  dress  arid  boniiet.  with  a  thick  brdl^  | 
vwl,  ft*8hawl  of  her  maid's,  and  an  umbrella. 


*  .        • 


■^ 


;:'\ 


1 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


ippens,  I  may  writ) 


t  Eleanor;  'fshe 


ith a  thictbrdihil 


^5 


Eleanor  started  up,  dressed  rapidly,  seized  another  umbrella, 
md  set  off  in  pursuit  The  umbrellas  were  capital  shields. 
Sybilla  never  saw  her.  Keeping  at  a  safe  distance,  Eleanor 
tratched  Miss  Tresylian,  wet,  weary,  and  muddyi^^ter  the  post- 
)ffice.  .  , 

That  was  aU  she  Wanted,  or  dared  venture.     She  turned  to 
the  right  about,,  and  was  hom^,  fifteen  minutes  before  Sybilla* 

Miss  Waldroi^  said  nothing  of  her  discovery.     She  was  wise 
[in  her  generation,  this  young  lady,  and  had  no  wish  to  hasten 
Ian  expfanation.     Besides,  her  secretive  nature  rejoiced  in  some- , 
thing  to  keep.     She  sai(J  nothing,  but  set  herself  quietly  and 
Iceaselesslj/  to  watch  the  unsuspecting  little  culprit 

Poor,  Wrong-doing  Sybilla !  Neverffl^  an  imprudent  mouse 
I  more  incessantly  watched  by  a  sleek"  mduser  than  she,  by  the 
I  bnusekseper|s  stately  daughter.        „       .       • 

Pati«n:e  is  its  own  reward.  Miss  Waldron,  for  her  pains, 
found  oat  that  Miss  Tresylian  received  letters  weekly  at  the 
post-oflice,  and  sent  lengthy  epistles  ift.  return.  She  could  not, 
with  all  her  watching,  see  to  whom  these  letters  were  directed— 
"  Richaid"  was  a  myth  still.  His  epistles  were  neither  so  \^ell 
written  laor  so  well  spelled  as  they  mi^d)!  b^  She  discove|;ed 
'hat  by  catching  sight  of  the  envelope,  ot3  it  confirilied  her  sus-' 
.picrons  *hat  he  was  of  the  canaille.  To  Miss  Waldfon  the  hour 
of  Miss  Sybillia  Tresylian's  downfall  was  near  at  hand,  and  she 


...*,»'.■ 


t^ixultatioa^ 


So  April  and  May  passed 
came  In,  and  the  waving  treeS 


.'V*, 


to^unve.. 


ose-crpwned  and  radiattt, 
Tresyliaii  Hall  cast  invit' 


Tl 


iv 


.♦*■«' 


■iP'^ 


\^- 


I  r&W 


;■;']')! 


illli 


96 


7»»  VIRGINIA  HEtRESS, 


itig  Shadows  on  the  velvet  sward.     Still  Miss  Waldron.  it,  her 
'     new  character  of  amateur  detective,  got  no  further  into  the  Heart  i 
ofthe  mystery,  and  still  Mr.  Tresylian  and  Mre.  Waldron  were 
^conveniently  obtuse. 

The  visits  to  Taunton  continued  with  clock-work  regularity 
and  more  than  once  Sybilla  was  dogged.     The.post-office  was 
always  the  place  visited,  but  the  letters  received  there  were  nevpr 
seen  by  cortal  eyes,  save  the  bright|mFeyes  for  which  they  were 
written.  *  V         ' 

Mr.  T.^sylian  and  Eustace  kept  up  a  brisk  correspondence 
and,  as  June  drew  to  a  dose,  the  last  letter  of  that  gentleman 
amved.     He  would  follow  it  himself  in  a  week,  all  his  arrange- 
ments were  made,  he  would  quit  Vii^nia  no  more  until  after 
the  wedding. 

Mr.  Tresylian  read  this  letter  aloud  to  the  femily  at  break- 
fest  and,  looked  across  the  table  at  his  granddaughter.  Miss 
Waldron  looked,  too;  but,  except  that  the  heiress  was  very 
pale,  and  kept  her  eyes  immovably  fixed  on  her  plate,  there  was 
no  change.  She  did  not  even  speak,  but  sat  crumpling  her 
moffin  in  stony  stillness. 

"You  hear,  Sybilla,  "Mr.  Tresylian  said,  rather  gravely  ■  "in 
a  week  EusUcewill  be  home;  in  six  weeks  your  wedding-day 
W.I1  have  arrtved.  Will  you  be  reasonable  at  last,  and  begin  ,0 
prepare?"  - 

^MnTre^ian  was  as  ^ery  nearly  ^xed  wjth  his  granddaugh- 
"^^^^^  ^sfBle WHfa  10  b^  with  that  idoHzed  dariinT' 
In  June,  by  all  the  rules  of  propriety,  the  preparations7or  the 


''■'«-. 

.■           /•      --^„;,.- 

t- 

^■^^ 

w 

\ 

^rn 

THE  VlkCINIA  HEIRESS. 

^ — ^^ 


97 


wedding  shou/d  have  commenced,  but  the  self-willed  bride-elect 
Tiouid  not  hear  of  if. 


"Who  wants  the  house  overrun  with  dressmakers  and  milli- 
ners," she  said,  petulantly,  Mand  all  the  fuss  of  fitting,  and  re- 
titting,  and  trying  on,  and  giving  directions  so  soon  ?  /  don't, 
and,  that's  more,  I  won't/  July  will  be  tme  enoygh ;  I  sh'a'nt 
have  all  the  dry-goods  in  New\York  made  up,  and  I  don't  want 
the  bother  to  begin  while  it  can  be  put  oflf." 

Of  course  this  decision,  lik^  all  Miss  Tresylian's  decisions, 
were  as  the  laws  of  the  Medes  and  the  Persians.  But  the  time 
had  come  when  the  "putting  off"  process  must  end.  Here  it 
was  the  close  of  June,  the  bridegroom  coming,  and  the  wed- 
ding-day drawing  rapidly  near.        \ 

"Very  well,  grandpapa,"  Sybilla  said,  glancing  up,  "just  as 
you  please."      *  \ 

Grandpapa  looked  as  nearly  exaiJperated  as  possiWe,  Mrs. 
Waldron  astonished.  \        . 

"WhatMjthe  matter  with  you,  Sybilla?"  he  criec^i  "What 
is  the  meaning  of  all  this  indifference;?/  I  fancied  you  would 
not  b^ble  to  sleep  for  two  months  beforehand  for  thinking  of 
your  wedding-dresses,  and  here  you  don^teven  care  whether  you 
have  any  or  not.     What  is  the  matter  ?"  \  * 

Sybilla's  pale  face  flushed  faint  carnation  all  over,  and  then 
grew  white  even  to  the  lips.  She  rose  abruptly  from  th«  table, 
and  ran  out  of  the  room. 


Mr7  Tresylian  looted  at  Mrs-^WaldronTn  a  state  ofblant  stu- 
pefaction.  i 


Xfc, 


.  I 


■^ 


*'     -      ■' 

*. 

'  *       ■                          .  i 

/  '' ' 

'   * 

.A 

■»            ^ '' 

•  < 

. 

/ 

' 

■     ^  ■   ,     ' 

^    r>n  ■ 

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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  145S0 

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98 


rjIE  VIRCmiA  ffklRESSi 


"  W%^  is  it  ?"  he  asked,  bewildered. 

Mrs.  Waldron  shrugged  her  broad  shouldera 

"I'm  sure  /don't  k«ow,  sir;  there  is  no  "accounting  for  a 

gtrl's  whims.     The  matter  in  my  mind  is  that  Sybilla  reads  too 

many  novels." 

This  was  rather  meager,  but  no  better  solution  oflFering,  grand, 
papa  was  forced  to  accept  it 

"  She  hasn't  been  like  herself 'since  she  came  from  the  North  " 
he  said,  discontentedly.  •'  If  it  wasn't  that  I  knew  to  the  con- 
traiy,  I  should  thtak  this  marriage  was  distasteful  to  her." 

Sybilla  did  not  make  her  appearajice  for  th^  next  two  hours 
Miss.  Waldron,  going  softly  by  her  room,  heard  the  sciatch. 
scratch,  scratch  of  that  busy  pen. 

"  Writing  again,"  thought  the  housekeeper's  daughter  "an- 
other letter  to  ^am/ i?^^ar^.  She  will  be  going  to  Taunton. 
I'll  watch  and^see." 

She  took  her  station,  with  a  book  at  the  dining-room  window, 
and  in  half  an  hour  saw  what  she  waited  for.  Miss  Tresylian' 
dressed  for  a  walk,  and  wearing  her  vail  down,  hurried  through 
the  avenue,  and  out  of  the  gate.  ^ 

"  Matters  are  drawing  to  a  climax,"  mused  Eleanor.  "Aug- 
ust  is  veor  near ;  but  there  is  many  a  slip  I  I  don't  believe  we 
will  have  a  wedding  at  Tre^lian  Hall  quite  so  soon  as  we 
u»ink." 

'.  ,  %    ' 


.      THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


99 


CHAPTER  IX. 


EXTRIMELT   MYSTERIOUS. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  first  day  of  July,  Mr.  Etistace 
Tresylian  arrived  at  the  hall.  He  had  been  detailed  by  btui- 
ness  longer  than  he  had  anticipated,  but  everything  was  arranged 
now,  -and  he  would  leave  Virginia  no  more,  until  he  left  it  in 
August  with  his  bride  to  start  on  his  wedding-tour. 

It  had  been  an  intensely  warm  day,  this  day  of  his  am'vs^ 
The  sun  had  glared  with  a  yellow,  brassy  hue  since  early  morn- 
ing, and  had  sunk  at  last  with  an  ominous,  lurid  glow.     All  the 
windows  and  doors  were  thrown  wide  open  in  the  old  mansion 
but  no  breath  of  air  fluttered  in.     The  trees  stood  lifeless,  the  '^ 
flowera  drooped,  the  grass  was  scorched,  the  dogs  on  the  veran-  * ' 
da  lolled  their  great  tongues  between  their  wide  jaws,  and  pant- 
ed in  the  fiery  heat     The  servants  were  out  on  the  grass,  the 
family  seated  in  the  wide  entrance  hall.     Thus  Eustace,  all 
dusty  and  travel-stained,  found  them  on  this  evening  of  his  re- 
turn, w'  .*■ 

With  one  exception— Sybilla  was  not  there.     Hot  as  it  was, 
she  had  started,  mere^tlainwo^^ura  beforerfeTi  i^ll,  ind""^ 
had  not  yet  returned. 


'i1 


I- 


■  t 


J^v 


i.^M^\ 


lOO 


r/f£  VIROmiA  HEIRESS, 


w 

ill-' 

I 


It  had  been  almost  too  warm  before  to  think  abbut  anything, 
butnow.  lookingupatthechangingsky,  Mr.  Tresylian  felt  the  firel 
symptoms  of  uneasiness. 

It  was  darkening  rapidly,  black  clouds  hurried  wildly  to  and 
fro,  and  the  West  was  all  a  blood-red  glow.     A  storm  was  ris- 
ing—a storm  of  rain  and  lightning,  and  she  was  afiaid  of  light- 
ning.    Oh  !  where  was  Sybilla  ?  ' 
'     Mr.  Tresylian^tarled  to  his  feet  in  a  tremor.  ' 

"Where  can  that  child  be?  There  is  a  storm  at  hand,  and 
she  may  hecaught  in  it  Do  you  know  where  my  granddaughter 
irent.  Mis.  Waldron?"  ' 

Mrs.  Waldron  did  not 

Mr.  Tresyliap  grew  more  agitated.     He  wm  easily  alarmed 
when  that  dariing  granddaughter  of  bia  was dfcrhttl,  and  the 
first  great  drop  of  rain  had  plashed  oh  the  vJRK     liiss  Wal-' 
dron  looked  up  from  the  book  she  was  »9ading-4:uSse  on 
geology,  by  the  way.  ^  ./ 

'      ' '  I  think  it  is  probable  Miss  TVesylian  went  to  Taunton.  "Sh^ 
is  in  th^  JialTit  of  going  there  of  late." 

"To  Taunton!"  repeated  Eustace.      "What  takeg  Sybilla 
there?" 

"I  am  not  in  Miss  Tresylian's  confidence,"  Miss  Waldron 
answered,  coldly.     "  I  only  know  that  she  goes." 

It  was  growing  dark  with  alarming  rapidity.  >  The  lurid  red 

,^»^ ^Mgntirely  pot,  and  theaky  wa6  iniy^laefc.     FasHmd 

fester  fell  the  plashing  rain-drops,  and  a  vivid  flash  of  lightning 


^f^^^r  V.V--^-^: 


.tv  4i^'i 


Taunton.   Sh^ 


'^:<"' 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


lOI 


Mr.  Tresylian  was  like  a 


■■'■        i  ■    i 


leaped  out  like  a  two-edged  sword. 
.  man  frantic. 

"  For  God's  sake !  Eustace,  get  your  coat  and  hat  and  come  ' 
vv.th  me.     Mrs.  Waldron,  arouse  the  servants,  and  send  then 
".  evety  direction  with   umbrellas.      The  child  will  get  her 
death!"  < 

Everything  was  confusion  directly-running,  and  ordering, 
and  preparing  for  the  search.  ' 

Miss  Waldron  folded  her  hands  on  her  placid  lap~it  was  too 
dark  to  read-and  never  moved.  The  rain  fell  now  in  torrents, 
the  lightning  blazed  ceaselessly,  and  the  thunder  broke  in  deaf- 
ening peals.  Eleanor  Waldron  sat  alone  in  the  hall,  and 
watched  the  storm  through,  the  ^pen  dooi^sat  thinking  of  Sy-  ■ 
billa  with  a  smile  t)n  her  fec<}.  .,  /• 

"I  know  ^where  she  has  gone,"  she  thought;  '/4iy  lady  is. 
nicely  caught  for  once."  ,.  /  - 

Miss  Waldron  was  mistaken.  She  did  not  know  where  Sy^ 
billa  had  gone.  If  she  had,  she  wouM  probably  have  thought 
it  the  gEieatest  mare's  nest  she  had  ever  found. 

The  searching  party  trooped  out  Into  the  hall,  with  Mt.  Tre-  ' 
sylian  and  Eustace  at  their  head.  Just  at  the  same  moment  a 
little  figure  emerged  from  among  the  trees  and  flew  up  the  ave- 
nue., All  paused  aghast  Another  instant  and  Sybilla, 
drenched  through  and  through,  pale  and  scared,  stood  before 
them. 

»Iy  darling  I    thf  old  man  rl^^«w^    t'T»h»rji.  Il *' i,.      % 

You  have  terrified  us  nearly  to  death."       * 


%\-^'i''^\f^'^' :;'i-:ie^  '"■-.^5  .  :. 


^ 


A-*»-.i^^^":i. 


€4  ' 


)S 


:i  "f 


? 


ft**."^ 


— —Jf — i^ 


spirr 


.      4. 


loa 


r^E  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


It 


-  I 


Sybilla  stood,  her  wet  gannents  clinging  arou)id  her,  her  fair 
hair  blown  wildly  about,  her  eyes  wandering  from  &ce  to  face, 
resting  at  last  on  Eustace. 

**jrou  here !"  she  said,  in  no  very  rapturous  tone.  "When 
did  you  arrive  ?"  "•■■%'' 

.    "An  hour  ago.     Won't  you  shake  hands  ?" 

She  held  out  her  han4^  but  it  lay  cold  and  lifeless  in  h!s« 

"Where  have  you  been,  Sybilla?"  her  grand&ther  repeated. 

"Out  for  a  walk,"  Sybilla  answered,  rather  impatiently,  "and 
got  caught  in  the  storm.  I  can't  stan^  here  talking  in  my  wet 
clothes,  and,  when  I  take  them  off,  I  am  going  to  bed  " 

I'he  young  lady's  hearers  knew  her  too  well  to  attempt  ex- 
postulation, and  she  had  swept  off  with  the  Wet  clothes  trailing 
about  her  while  the  words  were  yet  on  hen  lips.  There  was 
only  one  person  who  doubted  the  truth  of  what  she  had  said — 
that  person  was  Miss  Waldron.  ,  \ 

"I  don't  believe  she  was  out  for  a  walk,"  thought  Eleanor. 
"She  is  not  so  fond  of  walking  as  to  start  out  this  burning  af- 
ternoon for  that  alone.  She  has  been  to  Taunton  to  post  or  re- 
ceive another  letter."  yL.    .  \ 

It  was  rather  a  dull  evening.  This  little  episode  tl^rew  a  damp 
over  the  bridegroom's  return.  Mrs.  Waldron  bent  ovei^intermina- 
ble  plain  sewing.  Miss  Waldron,  at  Mr.  Tresjiian^  request, 
sat  down  at  the  piano.  Eustace  lay  on  a  so&  and  llsteiled,  but 
the  masterpieces  of  Beethoven,  'Mozart,  and  Mendelssohn  were 
entirely  thrown  away  upon  him.  He  lay  listening  to  the  rush 
of  the  pouring  rain,  and  thinking  of  Sybilla  with  a  gloomy 


^,/\^ 


lone.     **When 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


*03 


iP 


brow.  Was  everything  going  wrong,  aRer  all,  just  as  he  thought 
•^^  going  right?  Was  he  to  lose  a  magnificent,  fortune  foragirl's 
whim,  just  as  it  was  within  his  grasp?  Was  the  power  of  his 
strong  man's  mind  t^be  as  chaff  in  the  wind  before  the  coquet- 
ries of  this  little  I^y  (>price?  Was  she  going  to  jilt  him  at 
^heveiy^  moment  f  Eustace  spent  as  restless  a  night:<is  if 
he  had  becir  the  moft  adoring  and  despairing  lover  in  christen- 
dom.  He\Uy  tossing  on  his  bed,  and  listening  to  the  still  ftll- 
ing  rain,  and  wondering  what  new  display  of  self-will  to-morrow 
would  bring-ftrtl^ 

"If  Eleanor  Waldro\  had  half  her  fortune,  "he  thought,  ''Sy. 
billa  Tresylian  might  go  to  Joppa  for  me.  All  the  gold  fn  her 
grandfether's  coffers  wiU.  j^r^  compensate  for  such  an  incum- 
brance.  Let  her  wait  untif  she  is  once  my  wife,  though,  and  if 
I  dcn't  take  the  nonsense  out  of  her,  the  blood  of  tl»e  'bitter^ 
bad '  Tresylians  does  not  flow  in  my  veins."  '^ 

Sybilla  did^ot  make  her  appearance  next  morning  until  the 
family  were  seated  at  breakfest  Then  she  entered,  looking 
very  charming  in  a  white  muslin  robe,  her  cheeks 'ffusRed,  and 
her  curls  Rowing.  Never  was  the  wind  half  so  changeful  as 
these  girls  I  The  pretty  Uttle  €irt  was  all  smiles,  and  held  gut 
her  hand  to  Eustace  with  something  of  the  frank  brightness  of 
«ther  days. 

"  I  was  too  cross  and  too  wet  to  say  'how  do  you  do '  last' 
•>ight,  Eustace.    A  saint  couldn't  keep  her  temper  iii  a  aown- 


pour  of  rain,  and  I  am  not  a  saint 
"No,"  thought  Eustace,  "veiy  &r  from  it 


t? 


f 


i 


'^^.  J 


k.A»  j^^. 


*M>e4S!fP  '*^"'  ""' 


''^ 


I.    1 


f" 


0' 


t04 


THE  VlRCmiA  JfEI 


^y 


v^ 


Miiss  Tn^Iiian's  tongia6  nevier  c6asedli  altlbr^^  tiVne,  and 
iier  stream  of  girlish  tittle-tattle  tnade  grand^pa's  &ce  radiant 
It  was  tweeter  than  the  music  of  the  smiereft  to  him,  all  this 
pret^  feminine  small-talk,  and  His  darling^  bmiling  &ce  £ih^r 
than  the  VeiiaS  de  Medicii  , 

As  they  rose  from  the  table,  Sybilla  pnshed  her  arm  through 
thit  of  Eleanor;  / 

^  "  Come,  Nell,**  she  siid,  "  I  ttant  you  to  tgiich  tne  the>^ 
df  that  d^i^t  \%  ift  of  such  a  fiy-atvay  character  that  I  never  csfn 
learn  it  alone.     All  the  more  like  myself  for  that,  eh  ?"  •     '    • 

Nobody  in  ib&  wortd  would  eveiP  have  thought  of  calling  Miss 
Waldron  Nell,  save  Sybilla  Tfesylian,  and  she  only  in  one-of 
her  most  fitful  moods.  Eustace  looked  round  ^iU>  an  implor- 
ing expression.  \  .       ; 

^"1  thought  you  would  ta^ke  a  >va^  Fith  me  Uiis,  n^orning, 
§fbiUa."  ' 

.^  .  ".Couldn't  possibly — must  improve  my  mind,  *  How  doth 
the  little  busy  bee,' you  know,  and  I'm  awfully  backward  m 
triplets  and  things,  ^d  Eleanor  knows  more  about  music  than 
the  man  that  composed  it,  and  shje's  going  to  teach  me.  Yon 
can  come  and  listeii  it  us,  if  you  like,  bnly  you  tnittiiaVtead 
the  paper,  for  nobody  can  play  runs  and  shakes  with  ft' fidgety 
>xwhg  iiftaul  tuniing  . 

Miss  Waldron  alloWed  herseif  W^led  oat  W  ^«  ^^h^ 
tetace  ibll6w«d,  stiUioolcing  !^)pejtl!iig^  3^:«.;i;ox  a^^I  \ 
"■  -  ^'Aitw  the  d!tet,-tiiett"-yott-^<»^^^end^dtfe  MFfaote  tiioii^ 


owxthoL" 


^^. 


WB:/--:, 


WA,-, 


her  arm  through 


e  U)|8.  n^Qi^mng, 


oi  i'iBi  f<it:fi"i'5'{s 


'»-?. 


•>   -►      1*;,     ,^ 


^BE  VJUQiNfA  mmESS.  ,©5 

"Can't  we?    You  doA't  know  what  we  cap  do  when  we're 
driven  to  it    After  the  duet  I  have  a  npvel  to  finish-:-the  loveT' 
liest  sioiy,e,^th  jft»  old.  hard-hefcrted  hypocon-what-you-may. 
G^llrit,  uncle?-and  a  niece  dftadfuUy  in  love  with  a  popr 
young  man  I    It.  will  take  me  until  after  luncheon  to  finish 

Eustace  turned  away  abruptly.     It  was  quite  evident. '^nder 
all  this  talk,  lay  a  steady  purpose  to  avoid  him.     He  mpunted 
his  Jiorsp  and  rode  ofi;  and.  the  mpment  he  was  out  of  ?ight, 
Syb^  sprang  tti^  ex>m  the  piano. 

"Fra  sick  of  that  duet,  «  lewt  for  the  present.    Perhaps  HI 
have  another  p»ctii»  thi«  afternoon," 

^•Penelope's  web,"  thought  Eleanor,  "a  shield  to  ward  off 
suitors.     When  Eustace  returns  It  will  be  resumed."      , 
Luncheon  passed— afternoon  came. 

Sybilla  was  lying  idly  on  a  lounge,  her  eyes  dosed,  and  her 
hands  clasped  above  her  head,  ken  Eustace  sauntered  ipto  her 
boudoin  '    '"  '   •  '"  "  ■.:■:.  \:'r  ->(w  ■ 

/'l^e afierniion  a iovely^^  out fti a ws*."'' 

Sypm  kept  her  eyes  closed,  and  made  no  sign.  • 

j*^ybmr^,^  •-;^.:'...,:-,.:^;,'"\"  ?"■'■  '^'  '^'":''^> 

"GQ^^Mi^rsaid^^  igg^  ppenin^her  eyes  and  shu^ 
^th^  ««ai^;.''%'tyo^  ^^,Jt'^  «ae^r"     ':    .  i^"' 
"I see  you  are  <tet«jrn|jn^tp,,l)^ provoking/' replipdjiu^^ 

eyes  and  talk  to  mes."  "^ 


:i^l-. 


■•*      • 


•11  i,'"'ti  ^f.''A    -.•>»  ••SwiVil' 


^i^t'^ 


.^. 


\  . 
ii  i 


;^5 


H 


i       I 


i 
'4l 


.« 


!^4 


F^TVtS&t    - 


ItTitiimmi 


f-^-1 


"        •*    "••_ 


■s'Vi 


io6 


TJ^E  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


m 


■v. 


"  I  prefer  talking  to  you  with  my  eyes  shut ;  but  I  think  you 
might  go  away  when  you  know  you're  not  wanted." 

"  I  am  never  wanted,  it  seems,"  bitterly.     "  Will  you  come 

out  for  a  walk  ?"  • 

•'Too, warm  !"  said  Sybilla,  taking  a  lazier  position  on  the 

ic/unge.  .  .  .     ^       ^ 

/  A  fresh,  cool  breeze  after  the  rain  was  sweeping  through  the 

apartment  at  the  same  moment     Eustace  echded  her,  in  sui^ 

prise: 

"Too  warm  V  and  she  was  out  in  the  fieiy  heat  of  yesterday. 

'Say  you  don't  feel  inclined,  at  once."  , 

"I  don't  feel  inclined,  then." 

The  tone  in  which  this  was  said  left  Eustace  but  one  digni- 
fied alternative.      He  arose,  and  walked  silently  out  of  the 

room. 
That  was  but  the  beginning— Miss  Tresylian's  conduct  did 

not  improve. 

The  cleverest  statesman  could  not  have  shbwn  more  diplo- 
macy in  gaining  his  point  than  did  she.  Eustace  had  to  stand 
off  at  arm's  length,  and  submit  to  being  most  unmercifully 

snubbed. 
Grandpapa  saw  it,  and  expostulated ;  but  grandpapa's  mouth 

was  closed  with  kisses. 

"Eustace  is  such  a  tease,  grandpapa— don't  you  mind  him. 
I  told  him  before  I  didn't  like  billing  and  cooing,  and  I  don't 
I  Ws^veiy  well  Q^  only  he.  doesn't^knoadt " 


But  all  this  time  the  preparations  for  Ihe  wedding  we»  gping 


■>.v. 


on  in  ret 
whose  m 
and  lace 
But  the 
theni  bu) 
fitted  an( 
to  aire  v« 
She  ha( 
one  way  i 
changes  ii 
the  most  ] 
trimming 
weddingHc 
<*She  it 
thought  s 
day  comes 
The  visi 
mth  even 
lespbt  in  ] 
md  alone, 
nounted  < 
oars,  retu 
)resumed  ( 
akeasudd 
rhey  held 


■*i. 


s^r 


l»W  l/r-^l 


■'m^ 


-A 


}ut  I  think  you 

d." 

Will  you  come 

x>sition  on  the 

Dg  through  the 
ied  her,  in  sur- 

lat  of' yesterday. 


but  one  digni- 
itly  out  of  the 

d's  conduct  did 

im  more  dipk>- 
ice  had  to  stand 
«t  unmercifully 

ndpapa's  mouUi 

you  mind  him. 
ng,  and  I  don't 


ding  were  going 


77W  VIRHlNIA  HEIitESS.  107 

on  in  real  earnest.  There  were  two  seamstresses  in  the  house, 
whose  needles  flew  from  early  morning  till  dewy  eve,  aAd  silks, 
and  laces,  and  moires  lay  heaped  on  tables  in  rich  confusion! 
But  the  bride-elect  took  surprisingly  little  interest.  She  let 
them  buy  for  her  what  they  pleased,  and  she  submitted  to  be 
fitted  and  "  tried  on »  with  lamh-like  docility,  but  she  seemed. 
to  care  very  little,  after  all.  ^^'^ 

She  had  no  orders  to  give—make  them  any  way  they  liked— ^ 
one  way  was  much  the  same  as  the  other,  after  all.     Of  the' 
change  in  her,  no  change  was  more  surprising  than  this-ghe, 
the  most  particular  of  mortals  about  the  cut  of  a  sleeve,  or  tb^* 
trimming  of  a  skirt,  so^ shockingly  indiffeient  concerning  her 
wedding-clothes. 

^♦She  is  indifferent  because  she  never  means  to  wear  them,  ~ 
thought  shaip-sighted  Eleaiior  Waldron.  '^Whfen  the  bridal 
day  comes  there  will  be  no  bride." 

The  visits  to  Taunton  continued,  since  the  arrival  of  Eustace^ 
wth  even  more  frequency  than  before.     Miss  Tresylian,  little 
iespot  in  petticoats  *J^t  she  was,  we lA  came,  unquestioned^ 
md  alone.    Almost  every  day,  sometimes  on  fb^f  sometime 
nounted  on  Starlight,  always  unattended,  she  was  gone  kx    : 
loais,  returning  often  when  the  3tara  were  in  the  sky.     No  one 
)resumed  to  question  her,  not  even  grandpapa,  lest  she  should 
ake  a  sudden  tantrum,  and  renounce  the  maniage  altogether, 
rhey  held  her  by  a  hair  only,  that  might  snap  at  any  moment, 
nd  l<Mve  them  utteriy,diseQ^fitedr 


~—r; 


So;  July  wore  on—its  third  week  )iad  come. 


H 

...  j).! 


■  1 

'  • 

I 

.-   '■>'■' 

■f.: 


■1 


[itV^s 


w-- 


■r'r-Mi 


t 


i: 

i  »• 


h    :.i. 


108 


■V 


ra»  VntGINIA  HEIRESS. 


The  wedding-dre^esJiung  in  splendid  array  in  the  wardrobe 
up  stairs ;  the  arrangements  preparatory  to  starting  for,  Europe 
were  being  made.        ^  .  '  •  h. 

.  Mrs.  Waldronand  her  daughter  were- to  keep  the  house  whil 
they  were  gone,  and  superintend  its  refurnishing  and  rejuyena 
tion  before  they  cam^  back. 

Matters  were  coming  to  a  focus.  In  three  ^ks  the  weddinf 
would  take  place,  and^till  the  bride  kept  the  bridegfroom  aloot^ 
still  she  maiiltained  her  listless  apathy  <m  the  su^'ect  of  dies 


and  ornaments,  and  still  the  daily  absences  grew  longer  am  '"Ron  hei 


longer. 


El^anoi 


!i.   1- 


trees.     It 

::ast  aftem 

iky.     A   E 

lolemn  soi 

ler  of  con* 

The  hoi 

ace,  so  wj 

lichmond. 

he  servants 

alking  auc 

lush  of  th( 

seamstresses 

3r  lost  time 

Five  struc 

deep  rever 

liere  for  t¥ 


-X — "^ 


+;(- 


'■!^iu-; 


--\  M 


.>'"., 


""tlA  V    .'   '^*S«* 


..  ( 


rff£  visGiNiA  heiress: 


109 


N 


J 


x:- 


GHAPTE^Jt. 

HIGHLY  -SBKSATlfNAI. 

El<vmor  Waldron  sat  at  her  chamber  windoir,  her  chin  rest- 


y  in  the  wardrobe 
arting  for,  Eurqx 

;p  th^  house  whil 
ing  and  rejuyena 

^ks  the  wedding 
bridegroom  aloot 

'  ""^^^  <*<"  ^«»    ,        ■         ^        r j«ucr  winaow^,  ner  chin  rest- 

grew  longer  am  •"»  o*^  her  hand,  her  thoughtfiU  ey«s  looking  out  at  the4Q»ing 
trees.     I^  was  theiiftemoon  of  the  fim  of  August-a  ^ark -^ve^ 
^t  aftemooo.  with  the  promise  of  pming  rain  in  the  I'eadeii     , 
.ky.     A  moaning,  complaining  wind. worried  the  trees,  and  a 
lolemn  sound  echoed  from  the  pine  woods,  alvlys  the  forerun 
ler  of  conmig  storm.  J  ' 

The  house  U  veiy  still.  Sybilla  was  absei;,t,"so  was  ^u,. 
ace  «>  was  Ufr.  Trasylian.  -who  had  gone'  that  morning  to 
Richmond.  Mrs.  Waldfon  was  taking  her  beforeKlinner  nap '^ 
he  servants  were  away  out  of  hiring,  and  only  a  murmur  of 
alk.ng  and  laughing,  from  a  room  across  the  hall,  broke  the 
msh  of  the  hot  afternoon.  It  was  the  room  where  the  two 
eamstresses  and  SybiHa's  maid  were  busy  at  wbrk.  makij,g  up 
or  lost  time.  .     *  ^t>  ^v 

Five  struck  soniewhere  down  stairs,  and  Eie-nor  woke  out  of 
deep  reverie,  surprised  to  find  it  so  la^e.  She  had  been  sitting 
^■^  for^jwo  hpura.  j^  in  ^edita^on  with  Miss  Treylia«^ 


'rX'- 


\\: 


s« 


itabc 
lain 


Jsdaingsforhersubleit   TT.e^^  .^ 

V.  ^  ^.  :  ,  *d  no  sign  as  yet  of  |he  denou^^senf:    This  waiting  was  getting       ^ 
■      '..     -.I     /    ■  •  -^ 


^,..^^f^f" 


r\ 


\  ' 


no 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


a  little  tiresome — she  wished  the  mysteries  would  open,  and  the 
coup  de  theater  come. 

As  the  clock  striick  she  arose.  3he  had  to  go  to  the  village 
to  execute  some  commission  for  her  mother,  and  should  have 
surted  an  hour  ago.^  It  would  be  dark,  now,  before  she  could 
come  back,  and  with  the  night  would  fell  the  rain  also.  In  five 
minutes  her  bonnet  and  shawl  were  on,  and  she  was  walking 
rapidly  dowfi  the  avenue  and  toward  the  village. 

It  was  some  two  miles  off,  and  nearly  an  hour  before  Eleanor 
^ot  there,  then  another  passed  in  fulfilling  her  errands,  and  sev- 
en was  striking  by  the  village  church  ere  she  turned  to  retrace 
her  steps.  "   t  , 

The  storm  threatening  all  the  afternoon  had  not  feUen  yet, 
but  was  drawing  near.  It  was  darker  than  it  should  have  been 
at  eight,  and  a  thin  drizzle  filled  the  air.  She  would"  be  over- 
tsrken  by  the  storm  and  the  darkness  to  a  dead  ceitainty,  and 
the  road  was  a  lonely  one. 
.  "I  mifht  take  the  short  cut  througtt  the  fields  and  the  pine 
woods,"  she  thought,  "but  it  is  so  dreary;  and  they  say  there 
are  runaway  negroes  in  the  woods.  I  had  better  risk  the  storm 
|uid  go  roupd." 

X,    "Miss  Waldron,"  said  a  voice  at  her  elbow. 
,-;.  She  turned  round  and  saw  Eustace. 

"Your  hurry  must  be  pressing,  Miss  Waldron,  when  jou 
to  spjMiX  to  your  friejids. "    ^, 


.    <^I  did  not  see  you,"  said  Eleanor,  very  much  relieved  at  th< 
sight  of  him.     "Are  you  going  home  ?" 


:^^\ 


-Jft^.^l'i^^-t.ii-iym    -      .      ., 


^4,i..i..,..:.^.: 


_.'_^^  ^-«^*4i 


■'■'^t'-ii^-i^L-'^ 


rl 


>*?*«. 


'■^    -f"!    f    •<>' 


3;i 


lid  open,  and  the 

I  go  to  the  village 
and  should  have 
before  she  could 
un  also.  In  five 
she  was  walking 

ir  before  Eleanor 
errands,  and  sev- 
tumed  to  retrace 

d  not  fiillenyet, 
ihould  have  been 
B  would'  be  over- 
id  ceirtainty,  and 

ilds  and  the  pine 
id  they  say  there 
er  risk  the  storm 


dron,  when  yon 


r/a.  VIRGIMIA  HEIRESS. 


'  Yes,  if  I  may  have  the  pleasure  of 


III 


there. 


escorting  j 
.Take  my  arm.     We  will  have  to  step  out,  or  stand  a  ducking." 

"I  am  inclin^  to  think  we  are  in  for  the  ducking  in  any 
case,"  said  Eleanor.  "Had  we  not  better  take  the  short  cut 
through  the  woods  ?" 

"  Of  course ;  we  may  outstrip  the  rain  yet " 

He  drew  her  arm  within  his,  and  they  luiiried  on.  It  was  no 
use  denying  it,  he  liked  to  be  with  EleanoSmd  much  preferred 
having  her  on  his  arm  to  his  bride-elect 

They  were  walking  too  rapidly  to  talk  muCh.  They  left  the 
village  behind  presently,  and  struck  into  a  number  of  foriom- 
looking  fields. 

•'  Was  Sybilla  at  home  before  you  left  ?"  Eustace  asked  once. 

**  No, "  replied  Eleanor.  "  I  fency  she  may  have  got  belated 
aswell  asmysilf." 

Eustace  made  no  answer,  but  hurried  her  over  the  dismal 
fields. 

The  pine  woods  loomed  up  black  a^d  grim  before  them,  but 
Eleanor,  with  Eustace  by  her  side,  felt  no  fear.  It  shortened 
the  distance  by  half  a  mile,  this  woodland  path— very  pleasant 
on  a  sunny  summer  noon,  but  ghastly  and  weird  now. 

The  rain  was  beginning  to  Ml  as  they  entered,  but  the  shelt- 
ering trees  kept  them  safe.  No  living  thing  was  visible,  and 
no  sound  was  to  be  heard  but  the  solemn  suiging  of  the  great 
pines.  ^     ^ 


-  -^fheyiiair Hurried  along  for  nearly  a  ^luuter  of  a  «|^  WSeo 
a  sudden  angle  In  the  forest-path  brought  theto  in  sight  of  two 


'  •!>, 


■''\i^ 


:h  relieye4  at  the 


^ 


I'H*.*'  ' 


"^♦■"l- 


il'*-*' 


II 


i 


'if' 


i--» 


r-'. 


iia 


TffE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


figures  flitting  along  ahead — the  figures  of  a  tnan  and  a  woihan. 
Eleanor  Waldron  uttered  a  fiiint  exclamation.  .; 

'  ^^t  looks  like  SybiHa,"  she  said. 

••  it  is  Sybilla  I"  said  Eustace,  in  a  surpressed  voice.  ' '  I  know 
that  hat  and  feather."  ^  ^ 

"Who  can  the  man  be  ?"  exclaimed  Eleanor,  her  heart  b6- 

ginning  to  throb  fiist 

Eustace  nAde  no  reply,  but  kept  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  pair 

-  if'  ■>.■-■"  ■       •  •        ■ 

before  them, 

Sybilla— ah  1  there  could  be  no  mistaking  that  gracefiillittl« 
figure,  or  that  Coquettish  hat  and  plume.  She  huig  on  the 
stranger's  arm  as  she  had  never  hung  on  that  of  her  cousin. 
They  fijllowed  them,  their  footsteps  making  no  echo  on  the 
turfy  path — ^never  speaUng,  and  too  far  oflF  to  hear  even  the 
voices  Of  those  they  pursued. .  Suddenly  Eleanor  stopped  lind 
d];ew  Eustace  back. 

**  Hush  I"  she  whispered.  *'  Don't  go  on.  they  ate  stop- 
ping    - 

Eustace  drew  back  with  her  into  the  black  shadows  of  the 

trees. 
^(B  pair,  in  fiict,  stopped.     They  were  on  the  outskirts  of  the 
..wood,  and  it  was  only  a  short  distance  across  two  or  three  fields 

to  "rrasyliaii  HalL 
*     it  was  too  ^rk  there  in  Uiat  gloomy  woodland  aisle.  By  this 
time,  to  see  more  thap  the  n^ere  outline  of  their  figures.     El- 
ffiJK^dix>n»latandiByijylFaa^ 
ire;    the  black  wood  shuttjnjfj;  tjicm  m,  (he  deefy  ^^^^^^^ 


surging  0 
ures  ahea 
it  Itv^ 
Tresylian 

Theyp 
tace  Tresi 
but  Eleac 

"Wait 
ing  back. 

He  obe 

Themj 
ling  a  tun 
remained 
stnnge  sc 
hem.  E 
or  his  g! 
lown,  tha 
Vgain  Et 
irm  hand 

"No," 
or  pity's  a 

Theycs 
£venin  tl 
Dfti^eyou 


«( 


Inei 


do  not  bel 


J.  i-^- 


«:-iv,  ■ 


n  and  a  woihan. 


roice.    "I  know 

>r,  her  heart  bfe- 

xe4  on  the  pair 

lat  gradefnl  little 
he  huiig  on  the 
of  her  cousin, 
lo  echo  on  the 
»  hear  even  the 
aor  stopped  tind 

*rhejr  are  stop- 
shadows  of  tiie 

;  outskirts  of  the 
TO  or  three  fields 

nd  aisfo,  By  this 
leir  figures.  El- 
leyef .  foigoi  jthat 


'i^  -f^\-.-h:¥i^ 


**■ 


rff£\  VIRGINIA  HEIRES&. 


113 


surging  of  the  trees,  thd  mysterious  gloom,  the  two  spectral  fig-^^ 
ures  ahead,  and  the  sound  of  the  &lling  rain.     She  never  foigot 
it     It  was  always  dark.  With  the  plash  of  the  rain,  and  Sybilla 
Tresylian  looking  shadow  and  ghost-like. 

They  parted  at  last  The  man  stooped  and  kissed  her.  Eus- 
tace Tresylian  took  a  step  forward,  with  a  deep  oath  on  his  lips, 
but  Eleanor  still  restrained  him.  ' 

"  Wait !"  she  whispered,  "wait!  he  will  pass  this  way  com- 
ing back,  and  we  will  se«  him." 

He  obeyed  her. 

The  man  was  advancing  toward  them  with  long  strides,  whist-  - 
ling  a  tune.     Even  that  old  Scotch  air,  Comin'  Thro'  the  Rye, 
remained  in  Eleanor's  memory  years  after,  as  part  of  that  night's 
stonge  scene.     He  came  close ;  he  passed  them,  never  seeing 
hem.     He  was  tall,  and  that  was  about  all  they  could  define,  ' 
or  his  great-coat  was  so  pulled  up,  and  his  hat  so  slouched 
lown,  that  in  the  darkness  nothing  of  his  features  was  visible, 
^gain  Eustace  was  starting  forward,  and  again  Eleanor's  coldi  ' 
irm  hand  held  him  back.  ^    '^ 

"No, "she  cried;  "let  him  go';  don't  make  a  scfetfe  here, 
orpity'^sake.     You  can  settle  this  matter  another  way. '* 

They  came  out  of  their  shelter  as  she  said  it,  and  walked  on. " 

rven  in  the  darkness,  Eleanor  could  see  the  deathly  whiteness 
of  ti^e  young  man's  &ce.         . 
**  Dp  yptt  know  hiya  ?"  he  asked^  in  a  deep,  intense  vgace' "' ' 


"■      \ 

r!  ^ 

i 

i 

1 J 

i 

t 
» 

1 

t 

t 

'  1 

■ 

^  1 

1"! 

m 

til 

^  1 

I 

K-       S 

r\\ 


he  deei^  sotema 


.^c;  :tvi  ..> 


^,  never  «aw1bim  6efo{re,  C^7certiun.^   Whoever  he  i  |^ 
do  not  believe  he  belongs  here.  ""    ^ 


v'wt.'** 


*  s' 


'i^.ii'. 


*^*  Jb>lb, 


t^iftin 


i 


I'l'VllfcU 


i    I 


i  .  I 


.,;fc 


ri 


\     ' 


"4 


TffE  VIRCmjA  HEIRESS. 


"No  I"  looking  at  her  in  Surprisie ;  "  where  then  ?" 
"To  the  North— to  Boston.  I  am  confident  of  it  1  knov 
that  Sybilla  has  been  corresponding  clandestinely  with  some' one 
ever  since  her  return.  She  posted  the  letters  and  received  the 
answers  at  the  post-office  in  Taunton.  I  say  rectioed,  for  I  feel 
sure  the  correspondence  is  at  an  end.  I  know  the  man  is  here, 
and  that  is  he." 

All  the  venom  in  her  nature  came  out  with  the  words.  She 
almost  hissed  them.  She  had  kept  her  secret  so  long  that  i 
was  a  double  delight  to  tell  it  now.  Eustace  listened  in  dead 
silence. 

"  Can  you  think  of  no  one  ?"  she  asked. 

"No  one.     Why  have  you  kept  this  a  secret  so  long?"  h 
asked,  coldly. 

"It  was  no  business  of  mine,  and  Miss  Tresylian  is  not  one 
to  be  interfered  with."  ^ 

"No,"  he  said,  between  his  closed  teeth ;  "no;  but  we  will 
interfere  with  her  to  some  purpose  now !  Here  is  the  secret  of 
those  long  absences  from  home  ever  since  my  return.  I  think 
this  night  will  put  a  stop  to  my  lady's  capere  for  a  while." 

Eleanor  Waldron  smiled  a  cold,  exultant  smile.  It  was  not 
80  easy  putting  a  stop  to  anything  Sybilla  Treaylian  took  into 
her  head,  as  she  well  knew. 

No  more  was  said. 

crt)88ing^i 


-poor  <rf  laiH.    Xeii  mmmes  brouf^t  them  to  tihe  house.    Oal 
the  threshold  of  the  front  door  Eustace  hettf  ter  a  mbmint 


'p&^^^^'^ii  v'  -    I  "-    lj»    <•         -•:.»  - 


V 

\ 


o.  tJ)its,sSi!:^&<iif, 


ri 


•  / 


.  »- 


rff£  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


Til 


?! 


e  then  ?" 
ent  of  it  1  knov 
lely  with  some' one 
sand  received  the 
r  received,  for  I  fee 
w  the  man  is  here. 

1  the  words.     She 
ret  so  long  that  i 
J  listened  in  dead 


:ret  so  long?"  h 

esylian  is  not  one 

'  no ;  but  we  will 
vis  the  secret  of 
return.  I  think 
ar  a  while." 
aile.  It  was  not 
esylian  took  into 

ields  in  a  down- j 
the  house.     Onl 
ir  a  moment 


"Say  nothing  of  what  you  have  seen  to-night,  Eleanor,  and 
neither  will  I.  I  must  thinkyoyer  what  is  best  to  do.  If  I  seek 
out  Sybilla  and  accuse  her,  she  will  &11  into  one  of  her  vehe- 
ment passions  and  defy  me.  Her  grandfether  is  so  infetuated  where 
she  is  concerned,  that  she  can  wind  him  round  her  little  finger. 
Wait  until  to-morrow." 

He  opened  the  door  without  waiting  for  a  reply,  and  they 
entered.  '" 

Eleanor  went  up  stairs  at  once  to  her  room,  and,  on  the  up- 
per landing,  encountered  Sybilla's  maid. 

"Is  Miss  Tre^lian  at  home  ?"  she  asked. 

"Yes,  miss,  jest  come,  and  soakin'  through  with  wet." 

Eleanor  asked  no  more,  but  hurried  into  her  room.  She 
was  wet  herself,  and  had  to  remove  her  dripping  garments, 
and  dress  for  dinner.  She  was  ready  when  the  bell  rang,  and 
went  down  stairs.  All  were  there,  except  Sybill^  who  was  never 
punctual.  They  were  feirly  seated  at  table  before  that  youqg 
lady  came  in. 

"Always  late,"  cried  grandpapa,  chucking  her  under  the 
chin,  "always  late." 

"lam  here  now,  "said  Sybilla;  "that  is  all  that  is  neces^ 
saiy,  I  suppose."  » 

"Have  you  been  out?"  Eustace  inquired,  in  a  tone  so  nat- 
urally careless  as  to>  surprise  Eleanor. 

"  Yes,"  answered  3ybilla,  without  looking  up. 


ron  took  a.  disagreeable  aftomoon  for  it; 
Was  yonr  business  so  pressing?'' 


you  not? 


■\'h---' 


J*MCi 


Cj'  '^itii'S.iSlk'i  >'^ii 


i«wi;..^if\v-'>Jv:dj--- 


j^^a^;" 


^. 


,  j»k ■;>.;,: ;-.S.;s%f&S 


•I 


il 


i 


im 


1     i 


f^t"^^-^'^  ■ 


"0  THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. . 

"  Very  I    Would  you  like  to  know  what  it  was  T  replied  Sy- 
bijla,  audaciously. 

"Not  particularly," said  Eustace,  coldly;  "it is  impolite  to 

pry  into  other  people's  affairs;  besides,  I  may  be  better  informed 

,  thah you  imagine."  "''■■' 

Sybilla  looked  at  him  suddenly,  her  face  flushing.  Mrs^ 
Waldron  seemed  bewildered— Miss  Waldron  stonily  quiet 
Grandpapa  saw  fit  to  interpose.  » 

"Are  you  two  quarreling?  I  won't  have  it  I  Eustace,  what 
did  Harcourt  say  ^about  that  mortgage  ?" 

Eustace  began  an  account  of  the  errand  that  had  taken  hiift 
to  Taunton  that  afternoon. 

«The  rest  sat  quiet  Sybilla  had  grown  rather  pale,  and  ate 
nothix^j,  and,  when  they  arose  from  tbe  table,  she  went  away  to 
her  room,  and  was  seen  no  more. 

Next  morning,  after  breakfest,  Eustace  set  himself  to  watch 
Sybilla.  He  had  made  up  I|is  mind  what  course  to  pursue 
Eleanor  saw  that  in  his  set  fece,  though  he  said  nothing  to  her. 
She  asked  no  questions— she  yn&  satisfied  to  wait  for  the  couisfc 
of  events.    ,  _      ,       ,  ! 

The  day  was  intensely  hot  Sybillj^  in  a  white  muslin  wrap- 
per, lay  on  a  sofiLall  morning,  with  a  volume  of  poems  in  her 
han^.  She  declined  luncheon  when  luncheon  hour  came— it 
wa8;too  warm  to  eat  All  jthib  afternoon  she, spent  in  her  cbam- 
ber. 


;"-ti:2-!n  -jsU  ':;n' 


'M 


I'sd  '^ti:'  vy-fz  -yboc 


j(j'"--j-i 


2i^#^^-*:;: 


As  the 
she  came 
of  blue  ba 
her  hat  ol 

Eustace 
ing  put  ol 

She  to< 
step.  Eu 
him.  H( 
was  hot  n 

She  ent 
only  for  a 
She  was  c 
ing  night 
His  back 
broad  Pai 
good  tim* 

"ilieySi 
the  trees. 
When  th< 
arated,  af 
hunting 
retracing 

Eustao 
treoi  and 
woodj^oj 


at  the  window. 


I  • ., ,  ri ,  1 


»;' 


.^^3/  • 


'■'! 


,'j.i»^        I  i««'^*4.i«U^«i^^^ 


'^i- 


■^-  ^: 


.^x 


sr/replied  Sy- 

tis  impolite  to 
better  informed 


ushing.     Mis. 
stonily  .qttiet 

Eusta^;  what 
had  taken  hii|i 

r  pale,  and  ate 
e  went  away  to 

mself  to  watch 
irse  to  pursu^ 
lothing  to  her. 
;  for  the  course 

e  muslin  wrap- 
poems  in  her 
hour  came — it 
It  in  her  cham- 


1. 


r^iE  VIRGhriA  HEIRESS. 


As  the  evening  drew  on,  however,  and  a  cool  breeze  a^ose, 
she  came  down  the  front  steps,  her  white  dress  changed  for  one 
of  blue  barege,  a  black-silk  scarf  thrown  over  hcE  Moulders,  and 
her  hat  on  her  head. 

Eustace  saw  her  trip  away,  and  composedly  followed  her,  keep-  "^•' 
ing  put  of  sight  .    ,j> 

She  took  the  high-road,  walking  rapidly  with  a  light,  elastioi , 
step.     Eustace  never  lost  sight  of  her,  and  never  let  her,see , 
him.     He  felt  sure  her  destination  was  the  pine  woods,  ari4>tfj^  © 
was  not  mistaken.       ^^  ^^ 

She  entered  the  solitary  pafti,  and  was  l<»t  among  tlie  trees—  ^ 
only  for  a  few  moments — then  he  came  in  sight  of  her  again. 
She  was  no  longer  alone.  The  tall  young  man  of  the  preced- 
ing  night  wais  with  her.  They  were  walking  on,  arm  m  arm. 
His  back  was  toward  Eustace,  and  his  &ce  in  the  shadow  of  a 
broad  Panama  hat  He  made  no  attempt  to  see  him.  "All  in 
good  tinie,"  thought  Eustace.  ^. 

iliey  sauntered  slowly  on,  he  still  following,  keeping  among; 
the  trees,  and  of  course  out  of  hearing,  as  well  as  out  of  sight 
When  they  reached  the  end  of  the  path  near  the  hall,  they  sep- 
arated, after  a  very  affectionate  embrace,  Sybilla,  the  perfidious;, 
hurrving  across  the  fields  homevird,  and  the  conquering  hero 
retracing  his  steps  back  through  thd  woods. 

Eustace  follOwe^i  him.  fife  cotiic^\^t  see  his  fiice  yet,  for  the 
trea  wd  1^ai  \ndi^^  hat    lie  followed  him  out  of  the 

h-road. 


\ 


wQoda.  over  the  fields,  and  iato  &e  higl 
%%  Atigast  kn  waft  'seftitig  in  a  gloiy  ^  c^insOh  and  golo, 


^    .1 


ri 


*•'/ 


/ . 


i-f 


-A\ 


'/-a 


iSfu-uI.  *,^**.^^«o-i  ;v^  sK, 


■  iun 


.,  *i^ 


;-»*": 


fsmm 


.    '1 . 


^llU-^^ 


rj/£  VIRCmiA  HETRESS. 


'  t 


I     i 


i'."v 


as  they  entered  the  village,  and  people  wefe  hunying  homfe^  to 
supper. 

The  young  man  in  the  Panama  hat  paused  about  halfway  up 
the  village,  opened  a  garden  gate,  and  entered  a  pretty  little 
cottage  with  the  air  of  one  who  is  at  home.  As  he  turned  to 
close  the  gate  before  entering,  Eustace  had  caught  a  fleeting 
glimpse  of  a  pair  of  dark  eyes,  a  handsome  nose,  and  a  black 
mustache.  Only  a  glimpse,  but  enough  to  show  that  his  suc- 
cessful j^val  was  eminently  handsom'e.  „  But  Eustace  had  taken 
that  for  granted  all  along,  knowing  Sybilla  as  well  as  he  did. 

He  had  found  out  all  he  wanted,  and  turned  back.  An  old 
man  was  approaching,  leaning  on  a  stick.  Eustace  knew  him, 
and  stopped. 

"Good-evening,  Barton.  Do  you  see  that  house  there.?" 
pointing  out  the  cottage.         *' 

"Ay,  ay,  Mr,  Eustace,"  the  old  man  answered,  touching 
his  hat,  "I  see  it"  .  'si 

"Who  lives  there?"  * 

"One  Peter  Lantham,  a  blacksmith.     He's  from  the  North 
somewhere,  they  tell  me.     Old  Daddy  Kenly  liyed  there  afoce 
him.     Peter  Lantham's  only  been  in  it  three  year." 
"Hasheafemily?" 
<•  Two  little  girls,  sir,  and  his  wife." 
"  No  more  ?    Is  there  no  young  man  living  there  ?" 
"Oh f  now  you  name It^yeS,  there  isj"  said  the  old  man ; 
-"»  youny  Mow=6tfiar-the'Norib;  aowff  oB  W^fSfF""  W  <ame 


^ii'^^-.iU'iJAtfr:  v'  .J/' 


■^_ 


.  f-  »i*i- A'«iMJi»"i 


5"S«^ 


^^■"^Wt^ 


hunying  homi^  to 

about  halfway  up 
■ed  a  pretty  little 
As  he  turned  to 
caught  a  fleeting 
lose,  and  a  black 
how  that  his  suc- 
lustace  had  taken 
i^ell  as  he  did. 
d  back.  An  old 
istace  knew  him, 

t  house  there.'" 

^ered,  touching 

from  the  North 
liyed  there  afoce 
aiv"  .    , 


J  t 


'1'^'  V  <jf"\n '=>;-'*,? 


TME  riRGlNIA  HEIRESS. 


l|F9 


here?" 

id  the  old  man  ; 

ri^;""HcMcame 


abou^the  same  time  you  did  yourself  Mr.  Eugtace.  vAn  ujn- 
comdon  smart  young  fellow,  too.  and  his  name—what'a  tl^is 
his  name  is  ?"  V 

"  Yes, "  said'Eustace,  "  tiy  and  think  of  his  name. "  | 

"I  have  it,  sir— Nagle'6  the  name.     Dick  Nagle  they  call 
him,  and  he's  from  Boston.     Do  you  know  him,  Mr.  Eus- 


"Yes,  Eustace  knew  him.  Like  lightning  it  flashed  on  him. 
This  was  the  young  man  he  had  seen  with  Sybilla  at  the  Wor- 
cester depot,  and  Nagle  was  the  name  of  the  femiJy  who  had 
taken  care  ofher  after iier  accident  ..- 

W.  was  all  as  clear  as  the  golden  sunset  illumining  the  western 
sky.  \  -.  _,        .     ■  ;  -  r , 

"Thank  you,   Barton-good-evenii|g,'*  he  said,  abruptly, 
turning  on  his  heeL     "  That  is  ajl  I  walpt  to_  know. " 

He  strode  away,  leaving  the  old  man  ga2ingJ^  after  him.  He 
went  straight  home,  never  looking  to  the  right  or  left,  lost  in 
thought  .*"' 

When  dinner  was  over,  Eustace  entered  the  dining-room.  Sy- 
billa lay  on  a  Bofe,  languid  and  sleepy,  as  6he  had  lain  all  mom^ 
ing,  and  Eleanor  at  the  piano  was  playing  softly  and  sweetly  in 

the  summer  twilight  , 

'  '       -'/ 

No  one  else  was  there,  and  both  looked  again  at  his  pale, 
fixed  fece.     ..,.:.   .,-.■    .-U^.-,,     ' .  ■■   ....  .    '. -".■::   •' 

Eleanor  understood,  Sybilla  suspected— dreaded,  pethap»— 


1E|  |B¥]tuirn^  away  >srow»^ 


I  *1  k 


.*«S*»i*»Jgfl 


'  '      ^-. 


I 


lao 


7W£  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


did  not  speak,  only  remained  a  moment,  and  then  went  out  on 
the  la!wn  to  smoke.  He  lingered  there,  walking  up  and  down, 
and  smoking  cigar  after  cigar,  until  the  stars  s\i^ung  in  the 
blue-black  concav^  and  a  pale  round  moon  smiled  up  to  the 
xenith. 


t? 


I  iill 


iK 


^i  *"*['_,- 3'  >'*  fV   -  ' 


vC:  'lis  '7ro:u     »'?*;--■!•','!    r 


3:;;  'i^n 


e"'.;- 


y 


i:':-:: 


.1  -i 


'it.--'  ■ 

•"^'^■^^:Ii 


Nothing 
'ening  in 
>e  storm. 
Eustac^ 
e.    Elear 
'    i     Jar  her  pi 
lasting  Si 
e  iirall. 
"No,"8l 
>d  hot" 
It  was' V) 
underboli 
Perhaps 
n    i'.':luch  in  he 


■-rc  «'in,'>  ,^-' 


.2£  H-srn*  3^«:  ..rroii;-!^^-^  -iwCTijcJ:!  ^fi^uCMi^      i;^/.?>  ■w3*'  I  U  ' 


«  1 
ove,  and  \ 

"Iflwei 


"^"afiS^fi'^TSiJrpg^^rs^iu  .ajujk  i"  ^^.^^^v  syw  tnojMbi?  isdemcwr 


.V  \t» 


^x. 


pf^l^^ 


....^■n 


»■•-'. 


then  went  out  on 
Qg  up  and  down, 
rs  sv^ung  in  the 
smiled  up  to  the 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEUtSSS 


•,r 


■'.    ■■'M> 


,;;:..(; 


1       ■ 

-    1   ;  t . 


'^-i' 


<r 


n^' 


-\v.\, 


« 


V 


"      CHAPTER  XL 

THK     GRAND*"  CLIMAX 


l» 


..  ^■ 


Nothing  farther  happened  th»t  i,igl,t    I,  w„  ^  .^^  ^, 

:::z:"  °  ''■'«^-'«'"'-«»  <"»»-  >.»^  Jt'p„ced« 

Eusace,  when  he  came  in  «  h«,  pU^  ^.^  ^.^  „,  „^, 
e.  Eleanor  never  quoted  the  pi.no.  Mr.  Tresylian  liked  to 
^rherphyofan  e«.fing.  M™.  Waldron  ben.-„,er her ev- 
to««g  sewing  «rf  SyWlta  la^„nher  «,h,  with  her&ceto 
e  wall.    Was.  she  asleej^? 

,d  r^I**  an.w«ed,  when  gnmBpapa^kM  4  "onJy^  , 

Itwas^^yqnH  b«d«  .<om.;<a„„d,were  gathering-Uie' 

underbolt  was  tenibl/ near.     '  ^      -e    •««. 

Perhap.  Mis,  Waldron  ne«radmimi  E«««»  TWita,  ^^ 

«ch  m  her  life  „  sh.  did  that  night     He  sal  so  Xv  .eU- 

*«W,  playing  te  inWcate  game,  ne«r  making  »  fcte 


»  —  -—      gwwaw^       a««WC 

;.  rSn .  ...    Dve,  and  aU  the  interests  of  his  life  at  stake; 


:;i5V;if 


fvsgm?  xcoiMt 


♦ 


i  u.        n        if    *■*.■'  »'■  ->  j^ 


'^.h\- 


5v  -^''i 


*  V 


>« 


1l 

'I 

I 


HI 


ll       ,\- 


41 


"  J 


•t 


r 


H:. 

-■i 

\ 

THE  VIRGINIA  HElkESS. 

Immediately  after  breakfiist,  next  morning,  Eustace  made  t 
firet  move  in  a, very  different  game.     He  took  his  hat  and  1 
the  house,  turning  in  the  direction  of  Taunton.     Sybilia  watcl 
him  from  the  window,  her  lips  set,  herfece  pale,  her  ^eL- 
tering.     fileanor  watched  her,  and  read  that  look.     It  said: 

• '  You  have  found  me  out,  but  I  dare  and  defy  you  yet " 

Eustace  walked  rapidly  to  the  village,  and  approached  t 
cottage  where  iSybilla's  lover  fiSd  entered  the  preceding  evenini 
He  had  not  to  go  in,  the  young  man  in  the  Panama  hat 
leaning  over  the  garden  gate,  smoking  with  the  morning  su 
light  full  in  his  fiw^and  the  morning  breeze  lifting  his  da 
hair.  .  ^^^'' 

Eustace,  seeing  him.plainry  now,  saw  how  very  handsome 
was,  and  his  lip  curled  scornfully.  • 

"For  that  country  clod's  black  mustache  and  straight  no' 
Sybilia  Tresylian  throws  me  over,  and  disgraces  herself.    W 
does  it  matter  if  the  \L<saA  is  an  idiot's,  so  that  those  well-sha 
features  are  outsid^  of  it  ?    Good-morning. " '  ^ 

He  stopped  short  before  the*  young  ^an  with  this  abn 
salutation.  -^     -  ^^^^^-^ 

Dick  Nagle  tpoK^is  cigar  out  of  MjMMPjtMrf^  ey( 
coolly.''  -    '^*'^^ 

>  "Good-morning,  sir." 
ii    '^  Your  name  is  Nagle?"  imperiously. 


4>JMfe^^*#OTir  Masadjusearf^^ 


Sir''  * ' 


*ii«w»"."        f'^^%.^£^^^  ^^  T- 


n  very  handsome 


7,*'' '/, 


\. 


If 


"^ 


/ 


% 


f( 


saxAx&&ig}''y 


*i     jM  rffE  VIRGMFA  HEIRESS.  \%l 

feA[0bjcct  in  coming  hens  is  to  make  love  to  Miss 
«l^#resj%^n  I"  "         .  ; 

»id  the  young  man,  coloring  Violently. 
H^rk  you.  Mr.  Dick  Nagle.of  Massachusetts  I"  said, Eus- 
tace, white  with  suppressed  passion,  "I  know  you  and  your 
object  in  coming  to  this  place.  You  liave  been  playing  a^des- 
perate  game,  sir ;  but  that  game  is  about  played  out  1  Pp  yoir 
know  who  I  am?"  '  *"  * 

"Not  »t  presc^it,*^  said  Mr.  Dick  Nagle;    "but  I  should 
liket6."V  Vv     ,     .  ,        ^  : 

For  a  tountryclod  certainly  he  took  things  remarkably  cool-  -. 
ly.     If  all  the  blood  of  all  the  Tresylians  flowed  in  his  vein^ 
he  could  not  have  been  more  perfectly  or  unaffectedly  non- 
chalant. 

"  I  am  Eustace  tresylian,  of  Tresylian  Hall, '  said  that  gen- 
tleman,  more  enraged  by  this  clod's  effrontery  than  even  by   '. 
his  crime;   "and  Miss  Tresylian  is  my  cousin  and  affianced 
wife!" 

Mr.  Nagle  was  by  no  means  so  overpowered  by  this  magnifi- 
^tent^ainouncement  as  he  had  a  right  tp  be,  and  returned  Mr. 
Tresyliail's  gaze  unflinchingly. 

"I  thought  you  were,"he  said,  coolly;  "but,  as  to  theothei 
affair,  I  reckon  you're  mistoken.  I  didn't  come  here  to  make 
love  to  Miss  Tresylian,  and,  for  the  mattw  of  that,  haven't  sees 
any  such  person  since  she  left  Boston." 


k 


A. 


■i 


was  so  peiAetly  #imfeaAdcd  at  thia  glaring  falsehood 
that  he  stood  for  a  moment  q^eecfaless.  I 


*' 


I 


\i-? 


:.} 


^€^^' 


.'Tf  . 


«  I 


t    "4 


TJIB  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


I 


'I  ' 


ill 


x\tm 


"You  Ijring  scoundrel !"  he  almost  gasped,  in  his  passion, 
"how  dare  you  tell  me  such  an  infamous  &lsehood  ?" 

"Look  here,  Mr.  Treaylian,'*  said  Dick  Nagle,  "don't  you 
call  such  hard  names,  or  I  may  lose  my  temper.  I  am  not 
~  afraid  of  you,  or  of  any  other  man,  and  I'm  not  easily  made 
mad  ;  but,  by  gracious,  if  you  come  it  a  little  /^  rough,  what's 
la  fellow  to  do  ?  That  about  not  seeing  Miss  Tresylian  's  a  true 
bill,  and  no  mistake." 

Eustace  paused  for  a  moment,  and  strove  to  recover  his  tem- 
per? ' '  IHf  was  seldom  he  lost  it,  and  he  felt  he  was  gaining  noth- 
ingby  itnow. 

"If  you  repeat  that  bare&ced  lie  again,"  he  said,  steadily, 
"I  mil  knock  you  down  I  I  saw  you  with  her  twice  my- 
selfl" 

A  «nile  flickered  for  a  moment  over  the  aggravating  rustk^s 
handsome  &ce. 

^.^^JThere  must  bo  a  hitch  somewhere,  'squire ;  I  haven't 
W|l|ted  With  Miss  Tr^lian  this  time,  I  vow  1  As  to  knocking 
mi^.,d<3fwn,  ^jKell  that  wouldn't  be  liealthy  pastime  for  you,  no- 

£ustac%^  felt  it  instinctively.  „    . 

l^ere  was  a  look  of  power  about  this  tall,  well-made  young 
fitrmer  tiiat  spoke  volumea  of  his  prowess.  Besides,  Eustace,  be 
it  known,  never  had  a  taste  for  that  sort  of  thinsr. 

n**l^'y,  ^^  *^Jg!^  IggLj''^l.^JJ*  8t»»r<Hig  to  go.;  V  yo^t 


ditUl.  never,  see  Miss  TrewliaQ  again  !' 

**  Don't  expect  to,  boss  I"  said  Mr.  Nagl^,  provokingly, 


"And 

by  the  r 

"Go 
more  to 

"Ren 
owAjred 
my  intei 
IS  my  ns 

He  ws 

"Goo 
Where' 

To  tell 
m  extra  i 
lylian's  b 

He  lai 
vhich  Im 

"Won 
idh't  qu 
\fiss  Trts 
lard  t9  st 
ow,  on  h 

Eustace 
'resjrlian, 
nd  wouk 
ttiSt-*re! 
^inhei 


«wV.!«a?*i%^.4'^'A»,  vv^j.-'Ti*  v-<»*rjj,ji   vi,  ,^  ;   .t"j 


vJ.S'j^t'k;'''''  ■;S^'*«? . 


H^y- 


ff^^^^ 


:^% 


,s.Vl=^'l 


i,  in  his  passion, 

shood?" 

agle,  "don't  you 

nper.     I  am  not 

I  not  easily  made 

>*«?>  rough,  what's 

Tresylian  's  a  true 

D  recover  his  tem- 
was  gaining  noth* 

he  said,  steadily, 
th  her  twice  my- 

EgravatiAg  rustic^? 

[uire ;    I  haven't 

As  to  knocking 

time  for  you,  no- 


well-made  young 
sides,  Eustace,  be 


;.i:;:>'V 


ig. 


pg  togp.rVyo^ 


>rovokiiigly, 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS.  ijr 

"And,  if  you  attempt  it,  I  will  have  you  tarred  and  feathered 
>y  the  nejjroes  on  her  grandfather's  estate  ^ 
" Go  it  I"  said  Mr.  Nagle,  sententiously.     ."Got  anythiiig 
ore  to  say?    Let  it  all  out,  or  you'll  be  apt  to  bust  1" 
"Remember  I"  Eustace  said,  with  a  malignant  scowl,  "you ^ 
low-bred,  ruffian,  you  shall  be  watched ;  and,  if  you  attei^t ' 
my  intercourse  with  Mis^  Tresylian,  I'll  keep  my  word,  as  Sure" 
« my  name's  Tresylian  1"  '  '^^ 

He  walked  away.  '  *"'1 

"Good-day,.'8quire,"  celled  the  exasperating  Dick  "after  him.,  ^ 
"Where's  your  manfters?"  ' 

To  tell  the  truth,  Dick  had  bte&^>ather  putting  i^on,  tddii^ 
m  extra  touch  of  the  raw  New  Englander  for  Mr.  Eustace  Tn»- 

lylian's  benefit  ~fe« 

\^         '  ;■-■:.!■ 

He  bughed  when  he  was  otft  of  sight,  and  le-Ik  hi$  dgir, 
vhich  bad  gone  out    -,.  ^;    ^aLi 

"Won't'there  be  a  row  at  home?"  mused  Mr.  Nagle.^  ^'"He 
lidh't  quite  get  the  hang  of  what  I  meant  aboot  not  's^efiig 
Miss  Truylhn  since  she  left  Boston,  but  he  will  shortly;   It%a*- 
■lardtp  stand  all  that  abuse;  but  I  didn't  want- to  kick  vt^^ 
ow,  on i4«r account "1  :x'.;M:tl!\   T 

Eustace  wem  directttr  hbm&     His  next  move  was  to  see  »fc  ^ 
>esyiian.    Hire  he  wis  ba^ed;   ^x.  Tresylian  had  left  hdi^\ 
nd  would  not  bt  bacjc  until  evening. 
lisR-treayKan.     HereLhewiw^iwflfed  «jpiin.    "m^i^ 


r 


^rt 


m 


His  third  was  to  ^4 


^1; 


ras  in  her  room,  and  did  norididi  to  see  any  ont,    Thert  iu 

^•ii^^  ■'••■•--';    --i-f'*    ly.  <-  'I  '  ■  ':'/::;5  ;  ,-     "  '" 


I 


'; 


'US 


«-** 


trp 


liii 


iii' 


136 


THE  ViMtflNIA  ffEIRESS, 


I'l 


I 


mm 


* 


nothing  for  it  but  to  wait  until   evening,  and  watch,  in  thel 
meantime,  that  Sybilta  did  not  leave  the  house. 

She  made  no  attempt  to  leave  it ;  she  staid  in  her  chambeil 
all  day. 

Before  Eustace's  return  in  the  morning,  she  had  dispatchec 
a  note,  with  her  maid  Lucy,  to  the  cottage  in  Taunton.  TK(| 
girl  was  a  bright,  intelligent  mulatto,  ready  to  do  anythi|igt  fd 
her  mistress. 

"Go  and  cpme  through  the  woods,  Lucy,"  her  mistress  saidj 
"and  don't  let  any  one  in  this  house  see  you.     Bring  me  bad 
an  answer,  and  you  may  have  that  pink  silk  of  mine  you  adj 
mired  so  much." 

Lucy  went  off  delighted. 

She  just  escaped  meeting  Eustace  on  his  return  by  dodging 
behind  a  tree.     Sybilla  waited  in  a  fever  of  impatience  for  thel 
girl's  return.     It  was  near  noon  when  she  came  in,  breathlessi 
and  panting,  and  bearing  an  answer.     Sybilla  &irly  snatched  it| 
from  her. 

"  Who  gave  you  this?"  she  demanded,  tearing  it  open. 
"A  young  gentleman,  miss,  and  so  good  looking.     I  got  out 
and  ill  without  nobody  seeing." 

•  Veiy  well,  Luqr,  that  will  da     Go,  now;  and,  if  you  sa) 
nothing  of  thi^  yoa  shall  have  that  blue  spotted  muslin,  too." 

Mfss  Tresjiisn  never  left  her  room  all  day.     Lucy  brojigfa    '^'^  'h^'- 
-iq>  luncheon,  aacU  Sybilla  remained  ahw:  in,  with  hef 

\She  sto< 
ixed  on  tl 


locked. 


•■m 


iw^'fc^'i 


M^-S^  -«.  -^,^yi-^■^>v^'v^'' 


J 


THE  vTrgINIA  heiress. 


"7 

The  house  was  sUll  as  a  tomb,  as  if  thj  shadow  6i  coming 
evil  hung  over  it 

Half  an  hour  before  dinner  Mr.  Tr&ylian  returned      Eus- 
tace  made  use  of  the  first  moment,  followed  him  into  his  studv 
band  broached  the  momentous  topic. 

An  hour  passed.  Eustace  came  out,  and  the  study-bell  mng 
I  It  chanced  to  be  Lucy  who  answered  it 

••  Is  Miss  Sybilla  in  ?"  Mr.  Tre^lian  demanded. 

"Yes,  sir— up  in  her  room." 

"  Tdl  her  to  come  down,  then,  I  wish  to  see  her  particularly  " 

Lucy  departed,  but  returned  again  alone  in  a  few  minutes. 
Miss  Sybilla  had  a  bad  headache-would  grandpapa  kindly  ex- 
|cuse  her? 

"No,"  said  Mr.  Tresylian.  with  a  sternness  very  unusual; 
•  tell  her  to  come  at  once.     I  must  see  her. "  ' ' 

Against  this  there  could  be  na  appeal. 

Sybilla,  very  pale,  and  with  glittering  eyes,  presented  herself 
She  knew  that  the  worst  had  come,  and  she  must  meet  it ;  but 
Ishe  came  of  a  daring  race,  this  little  Sybilla, 

Mr.  Tresylian  was  pacing  up  and  down  the  study,  white  and 
Istem. 

'  Shut  the  door,  Sybilla,  and  come  in, "  he  said,  with  an  ab- 
upt  Sternness  absolutely  without  precedent  in  his  intercounie      ' 
«rithher.     "What  is  this  I  hear?    What  is  thip  Eustace  has 
eea  tclliug jne?.^  What  ^Kwe  yea  btt^n  d^^f^^^-^  " 

She  stood  silent,  grasping  the  back  of  her  arm-chair,  her  eyes 
ed  on  the  carpet  i_  - 


'V' 


m^ 


BMNHHi 


n 


I!   ill 


I   ! 


Mi  i 


!l  li 


'I' 

IS 


ill 


f'-n; 


TffE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


"  Sybilla  1"  the  old  man  cried  out,  in  a  tone  c^  sharp  anguish, 
^ll/or.God's  sake^  spei^,  and  tell  me  you  are  not  guil^I  Don't 
jt^  there  like  a  stone']"    _   ,.■>:■  <  j  , 

^.S^l^jytla  looked  up  proudly. 

*  *  Guilty  of  what  ? — of  what  does  Eustace  accuse  me  ^"  :  , : 
...fj'',I  ^|i't  know — of  folly— of  madness.    Who  is  this  man 
jWihoin  you  meet  ckmdestinely,  at  improper  times  and  places? 
^0,1$ her    ,,-■;  -    ,  ■-  ,.:-,.,-■•:    ,        ■  •.  ;.  --•.  .>r^:. 

^[fllie  red  blood  flushed  aU  over  Sybilla's  &ce,  but  she  did  not 
H>eak. .;  if  ■     ■  .^iv 

.cjHeitgnuidfiither  stood  looking  at  her,  his  &ce  workings 

"She  does  not  speak — she  does  not  deny  it!  It  is  true, 
then.    She  has  deceived  us  all,  and  di^^raced  herself!    She  is 

.^,J|e  staggered  against  the  wall,  and  stood  looking  at  her  in  a 
sort  of  horror. 

f  !  %bi)la  fell  down  on  her  knees  beftM-e  him,  and  held  up  her 
^P^  h^nds. 

"Oh  !  grandpapa  I  don't  look  at  me  so— don't  speak  to  me 
li)^  that,  or  you'll  break  my- heart!  Oh,  dear,  dear  grandpapa  I 
I  myeiy  fi3oli8h  and  wicke(^  I  know,  but  I  am  not  so  bad  as 
yoiithinkr  -^ 

She  broke  down  in  a  storm  of  wild,  hysterical  weq>ing.    At 
^htfif  her  tean,  the  old  naan  foigot  eveiythingbut  that  she 
life^ 


Ms  arms,  and  hid  the  tear-stained  hot  agaipst  his  brea«t.  .1 
_  "My  darling!   my  darling!" he  saidi  soothingly,  stroking 


rt^iiLMl^"^^^ 


.  •;^fehiijS!i..iAsA5ij.?i'i':^ 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS.  ,,9 

the  silken  hair,  "  don't  cry  so  I  You  know  I  would  not  mike 
you  unhappy  for  the  world  f  Sybilla  I  Sybilla  I  iri>  pet  <"  - 
But  still  she  sobbed  passionately,  unrestrainedly;  until  ^she 
could  sob  no  more.  The  hysterics  did  hergood;  she  Iay'#^k 
and  pantmg  in  his  arms,  quiet  at  last;  only  now  aid  theih  the 
slight  figure  shook  with  a  shivering  sob.  - 

"My  darling  girl  r  the  old  man  said,  with  infinite  Wndei- 
ness  m  his  voice  and  face,  "my  darling' girl  knows  r love  liCr 
dearer  than  life.  She  knows  I  would  not  willfully  give  her  0^^ 
moment's  pain  for  all  the  wealth  of  the  world.  Bat.  Sybilla, 
this  is  something  serious-we  must  speak  of  this.  Much  aS^  I 
love  my  child,  I  could  ^better  bear  to  see  her  dea*  than  dis- 
graced  I"  .      P 

The  hysterics  began  again.  rJ?   1 

"Oh  I  not  that  dreadful  word,  grandpapa-!  am  not  so  vert; 
veryh^  as  that  I  know  I  am  wicked,  and  selfish,  and  diso- 
bedient ;  but,  oh  1  not.  «o/so  awful  as  that  1"  ^^  ^vm 

"My  dean  dear  child  !-my  foolish,  mistaken  little  gTri  1 
Tell  your  grandpapa  all  about  it,  then.     Who  is  this  yotrri^  - 
man  ?— what  is  he  to  you  ?"  .  .  >  .1..  • 

"Oh,  not  to-nightl  Oh,  grandpapa,  Hot  to-ni^tf  1  iM  V 
tired  and  sick,  and  my  head  aches.  Wait  until  to-niorrdw!  ^ 
grandpapa-dearest,  best  grandpapa  that  ever  was  in  th»  WdiM,  ^ 
—-"'♦  you  shall  know alll"  .    .      ■  .l    ^cid  ad^. 


m 


At    —and 


"Aa  you  please,  inyown  dariifig;  t  would  ndt  distil 


.^■"tj "  v,'*"; 


the^ridr-To-motio*  will  doTBWeir'  ^rt  Im,  S^gffi 


before  yba  go,  «r  it  all  tiue? 


;eisi 


4>#«*' 


— '^. 


'i^-i 


■M 


:;f* 


I  I 

i  ■ 


13* 


r/ffi  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


I    ' 


11111 


He  spoke  eagerly,  as  if  with  some  lingering  hope  she  would 

'deny  yetl  and  he  had  always  known  her  to  be  truthful.    But  she 

did  not—her .  only  answer  was  a  sob.     He  put  her  from  him 

with  %  heavy  sigh,  and  arose. 

"To-morrow,  then,  Sybilla,  to-morrow  you  will  tell  me  all. 
^Good-night,  my  dearest  child,  and  God  bless  you  1' 

She- broke  down  again,  crying  wildly,  and  clinging  about  his  I 
neck,  and  calling  herself  a  wretch— a  wicked,  wicked  girl,  until  j 
he  grew  alarmed. 

"You  must  stop,  Sybilla— you  must  not  cry  so,  or  you  will 
make  yourself  ill.  Go  to  your  room,  now,  and  say  yo,ur  prayers 
like  a  good  girl,  and  go  to  bed." 

"And  you  wiH  forgive  me?,  grandpapa— you  will  forgive  your| 
Sybilla  to-morrow,  even  if  she  has  been  bad  ?" 

t'My  darling,   what  is   there   I  would  not   foipve  you?| 
There— there— go  to  ^our  room,  and  try  and  compbse  your- 
self" '  '  . 
And  so  they  parted — to  meet  no  more  for  a  weary  time. 
Mrs.  Waldron,  Miss  Waldron,  and  Eustace  dined  together. 
Mr.  Tresylian  sent  an  excuse.      Miss  Tr"fesylian   sent  none. 
Eustoce  lingered  all  evening  in  the  hall,  anxiously  waiting  Mr. 
Tresylian's  appearance  from  the  study.     It  was  late  when  he  I 
came/6ut,  looking  pale  and  haggard.\ 

"I  can  tell  you  nothing  ••-night,  Eustace,"  he  said ;  "waiti 
until  to-morrow,  and  let  us  hope  all  will  be  well  yet " 
ffj^^j^j^opg^  1^  ^g^^fj  «"  he  wgnt  wlowly  up  stairs  tol 


pass  a  sleepless  night;  but  there  was  nothing  in  his  heart  buti 


u  will  foi]give  youri 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS,  ,3, 

k  and  foiKiveness,  and  love  for  that  cherished  granddaughter. 
U  might  overthrow  the  hopes  and  plans  of  a  life-time,  but  he 
j)uld  never  say  to  her  one  harsh  word.  I  think  if  she  had 
Immitted  a  murder,  he  would  have  pardoned  her,  and  taken 
Ir  to  his  heart  five  minutes  after. 
JTo-morrow  came-a  dull,  overcast  day.     The  femily  met  at 

akfast,  but  tardy  Sybilla  did  not  appear.     Mr.  Tresylian  rang 

her  maid. 

"Go  up  stairs  and  tell  your  young  lady  we  are  waiting, 
J»cy."  .^f  ,1  ,  ' 

iLucy  obeyed,  and  was  back  presently. 

'Please,  massa.  Miss  Sybilla  got  her  door  locked,  and  won't 
f  me  in." 

'Well,  well— we  can  wait     Pour  out  the  coffee,  Mrs.  Wal- 
bn." 

breakfest  was  over-ten  o'clock,  eleven,  twelve  came,  and 

ill  Sybilla  appeared  not 

jMr.  T^ylian  got  alarmed,  and  went  up  to  her  room  him- 

IC     He^pped;  there  was  no  answer.     He  tried  the  door; 

'vasfastv 

I' '  Sybilla  1"  he  called.     There  was  no  reply.     "  Sybilla  I"  he 
-ated,  knocking  louder.     Eustace  was  by  his  side  now 
^rce  the  door  I"  Mr.  Tr«sylian  said,  hoarsely,  his  &ce  white 
ashes. 

It  was  done.    In  five  minutes  they  were  in.  the  room.    It  was 
„The  „bed.Thad  never  i«en^aleprinr^  lueses,  shiw]^^''^ 
•nicies  of  all  sorts,  lay  scattered  in  confusiea  about     The 


.A    f 


,M*«*' 


I 


\     ->'    .  ^  >i| 


'I'll 


III   i! 

iiriHI  i< 
111 '' 


i    !■' 


Jil  ii- 


»-■ '  v 


I' 


■-,,.  ._,-v.i,_,^-  w^-^««'j-  '■%-^^if!^-^ ■"^'^^^ I'A.' 


13a 


T^£  VIRGINIA  HBIlfESS. 


window  stood  wide  open — it  .opened  on  the  veranda— and  a  Id 
ter  lay  conspicuously  on  the  dressitfg-table,  directed  to  Mr.  Ta 
sjrliain. 

"She  has  fled  I"  cried  Eustace,  with  colorless  lips.     ''' 
letter  is  for  you,  sir." 

But  Mr.  Tresjrlian  j(|id  not  take  it     He  reeled  backwarj 
and  would  have  fidlen  if  Eustace  had  not  caught  him  in 


arma. 


^5lT     •''■ 


(•■  .11 


fH" 


fhi 


•  O      <  ^V.■ 


'.\-;-  -A) 


ii- 


>■'■■'  -'-u 


i:    .■',,■  1' 


:*-Jk 


.'idi 


'V!    -i;i- 


fi'.'J'i 


!r>;7Cf. 


!  .'•.'^r,-;fi  f. ".'  ;  Tj 


CilHr.  '■    I 


^   0-9 


.'     T         ,/■ 


■VH, 


:vj   ^';j:f: 


'>.r 


aai^!H-(.t'.  a?i\ 


■n^  ?I'.t     i'J    AiMi!.!     t,^  .-^— r-i'<-    'jini »'     .    ■.'■.^ir[' ■'«'■'■ ';    ?y 


smd 


Jii;  ,{,o;i-; 


1  » 


¥#|Ct'.  *^1c 


V- 


veranda— and  a  I^ 
directe(ttoMr.  TJ 

orless  lips.     **' 

[e  reeled  backward 
:  caught  him  in 

\r-  ';>    ^.M-   --in" 


Uillu 


rff£  VIRGMIA  HEIRESS, 


•/.. 


• 


CHAPTER  Xtl. 

MRS.    RICHAKD   NAGUt; 


■:<-■■-■.-'  :h'i  r'ji 

'    '  '  -  .  !■' 


J    i.'-X-    .,,-' 


■  (  ir;,-\  -i-.i. 


■'■'■■.     vr- 
i" 

~ 

if 

:-0    .SAi 

!;. 

"%.  r  ; 

rr.u  ,dO 

•  «' 

1  •. .  .-"*      , ' 

yA'    1-.-/. 

'■■ 

^  i. 

-1  1  «i        ■*./*'"  W 

■■'^ 

"■i""'" 

"/V     >V^"'' 

.t     - 

l:-    ^) 

;;  ,\^-y<\-M 

f  iT 

;"')hi. 

^ 

^«,i*^i^>#iH 

The  graj  afternoon  of  that  sunless  day  streamed  into  Mr.  Tre- 
Hian-8  chamber.  He  lay  on  his  bed,  a  broken  old  man,  with 
i)ustace  beside  him. 

He  was  calm  at  last-^  calm  as  it  was  possible  for  him  to  be 

nder  such  a  blow.     Eustace  held  the  letter  in  his  hand,  still 

[nopened. 

"Are  you  better,  sif  ?"  he  asked.     "Are  you  able  to  read  it 

low?" 

"lam't  read,"  Mr.  Tresylian  replied,  his  voice  trembling; 
'  read  it  for  me,  Eustace. " 

Eustace,  himself  veiy  pale,  but  quite  collected,  broke  the 
al.  It  was  blotted,  and  tear-stained,  and  smeared,  and  inco- 
erent,  and  shockingly  written,  but  the  lawyer  managed  to  make 
lout:   - 

►ear.  Dear,  Darlino  Grandpapa  ; 


^  — >  -"  -  ■-— "  «*».  I     *  ciui  MAKKiso  I     un,  darlinir 

te^rt^'^Jr'^;  T"  yo«  think  of  toe^ nowW^ 

Jamed.  the  day  before  I  left  Boston,  to  Richard  Nairle  ^ 

use  I  couldn't  many  Eustace,  ^md  because  iTved^dJS 


f"F,.r<    >*.■»» 


mmmmmm 


'~3^  v^  V  y  '  1  '"^ 


I   I 


134 


ra&  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


"Youi 

id  opulei 
Jr.     The 


so  much.  And  now  I  dare  not  stay  here  ai>y  longer,  and  I  am 
going  away  with  him  to-night  Oh,  dearest,  dearest  grandps^  ! 
don't, ,  don't  be  angry  with  me,  for  I  love  you  best  of  all  in  the 
world,  except  my  husband.  Oh,  pray  do  lorgiveMUiC  as  you 
,have  forgiven  me  so  often  before  I  I  will  write^  tptyou  again 
from  my  new  home  in  Massachusetts,  and  I  sh^ll^  miserable  irown  hei 
until  you  write,  and  say  you  [Kirdon  me.  Go^l^,  darling  -vulgar,  i 
grandpapa ;  you  will  soon  hear  again  from  /»  > 

Your  own  "•'§ybilla. 

I  Eustace  read  this  hysterical  epistle  very  slowly,  and  withoi 
emotion  of  any  sort,  but  Mr.  Tresylian  wept  like  a  woman. 

"  My  poor  child !  My  poor  little  foolish  Sybilla  I  Eustace 
what  shall  we  da?  I  can't  live  with(^;her.  Shall  we  pursue 
and  fetch  them  back?"  "  ,,  ,  » 

"No,"  said  Eustace,  emphatically;  "what  will  you  do  wit 
that  low-bred  clown  of  a  Nagle?    No ;  let  them  go."  , 

*^But,  Eustace,  I  can't  live  without  Sybilla  I" 

"  She  can  live  without  ^(W,  it  seems  1"  said  Eustace,  bitterl) 
"you  had  better  try  and  exist  without  her  for  awhile ;  it  wi| 
not  be  for  long  I  fancy." 

"  Why  ?"  looking  bewildered. 

"  Because  she  will  come  back  of  her  own  accord — come  ba( 
alone." 

•'  How ?    She  is  married — I  don't  understand. " 

"It  is  very  easy,  I  fency,  for  one  who  knows  your  gran  At  , 

daughter  to  understand.     She  is  as  capricious,  as  fickle,  ^  i|  u 

constant  as  the  wind.     She  married  this  fellow  on  the  impnll     .     , 

_         ^    _         ^  J,  don  t  q 

ofthe  m  bmeht    She  will  be^eartily  sicS  of  her  Mi^n  in  thW  ^        , 

months." 


p*'?Ai/.>. 


'  longer,  and  I  am 

learest  grandp^a  ! 

best  of  all  in  the 

orgiveMixC  ^  yov 

»rite^  to*  you  again 

ihj^ll^  miserabl 

Go^l^y,  darlini 

A      r       ■ 
•"''§YBILLA. 

lowly,  and  witho 
like  a  woman 

Sybilla  1     Eustaci 
Shall  we  pursu 

Lt  will  you  do  wit 
tern  go, 
il" 

1  Eustace,  bitterl; 
for  awhile ;  it  wi 


Lccord— come  bac 


and." 


<< 


«( 


■.  ■■  ^^  > 


w»  yiRcmiA  Me/xess.  ,„ 

Yc™  dU«k  sor  cn/d  Mr.  Tresylian,  his  e,«  sparkli^. 

d  op^e„c«  f„,  po.,„,  and  priva.,o„s-pri«,„„,  „  ,eaa,  Z 
mte.  Kf.you  a^ain  "'     ^  "^'O'  of  this  fellow's  bea„,y,  f„r  Vhich  she  h.. 

stL  °?"^'"  ^,^.  When  she  descends  fZ 
.  .o  Mev-woolseys,  and  dan,s  A.  Nagle's  stockings  and 

ts  h,J  dmner  a  few  weeks,  tte  Iove,ill  be  about  at  an  end 
J  he.  to  he,»„  and  ^„„  wii,  ha,  he,  back  b/chHs^^at 
.dde'jd  w.er,on.an.  .Oppose  hi.  and  shewil,  beasfirm 

^•TT>ere  is  something  in  that."  Mr.  Ttesylian  «Ud,  thought- 

Yo«  can't  have  the  fellow  here.>„,snedEnstace.  "todi,.    ' 
e  and  mortify  yon.     Let  her  alone  for  awhile,  and  she  will 
™  wthout  him.    Then  ,on  e^„  p,oc„.e  a  divo^t  I 
»d  of  .ncompafbiliv  of  temper,  and  all  may  be  well  yet" 

Whatahead  yon  have  1"  exclaimed  the  old  man,  Tclw 

iim  admiringly.  -  ,,  '  loosing 

'he  lawyer  smiled. 
Lnows  yourgranAr, 

as,asfiokle,asiI  ,       ,,"'^~"^'"'^"-*»"3all.     Keep  up  yo„r  spirit^ 

0,  on  the  irnpntT, '  """  "^  ""^  ^°»  ™«  "o^.    When  she  \^ 

»^^-mmedia.ely,giv^1,erTiae  to  awaken.^ 
from  her  delu-sinn  •  tK» .-..  ,     .      *L  •*«'«»Ken  a 


ler 


im  m 


W 


!'■    . 


^ill- 


f^.  I 


F  :'■'•' 


ft        ,  ,  rf  J  o"'^  «i-*    ume  lo  awaken  n 

rrom  her  delusion;  then  write  to  her'fi™,y  but  kinly; 


,>.^.J-4feH&^^ 


''■"Jiii.    -  . «  «  1  f »     n 


.  ./-^. 


,j,  T^  VKBtirif  KBIRSSS. 

.ell  U«  you  forgiv.  her,  U  en  n.v.r  «.  h«  wa  "f^J  to  sa« 
„a>aim  with  that  man.  If  she  gro*.  Urfed  of  him  "^  **|<<^  .  « 
,0  gi«  him  up  forever,  the?  W  her  come  baok-Ae  "",'*  jNeir  Yo 
Jed  with  open  «^  Send  her  no  money ,  Id;  her  M  whl„..„-._ 
it  i.  to  want  it  ■  When  poverty  comes  in  at  the  door,  love  fl, 
outatthe  window.'" '^ 

- 1  will  do  whatev^:3?6«  say,  Eustacb ;  I  am  sure  the  ecu 

you  propose  b  best"    ; 

M  You  will  find  it  so,  sir.    A  few  weeks  after  you  wnte.  I 
call  and  see  her.,,  SbewiU  be  sick  to  death  of  it  all  by  t 
time^ter  husband  included.     His  lack  of  educaUon.  his 
parity  will  be  all  ihe  more  striking  and  disgusting  by  coni 
Iwill  talk  to  her.     I  wUl  persuade  her  to  return.     Iwill 

her  of  your  grief  and  loneliness^f  all  she  has  given  up  fo|cident ... 
fellow  not  fit  to  be  her  servant-and.  beUcve  me.  the.«|B„j^^^ 

.ment  £hat  would  be  worse  thaA  useless  now,  will  succeed  thp„ . 

Sybilla  will  be  back,  and  that  befote  long."         ^ 
Eustace  dtmed  everything  before  him.  ^  And^««/V  how 

took  it  ?t  TresyUan  Hall. 

A     ■      *  ♦  *  •  .       -* 

Mealtime  Mr:  and  1^  Richard  Nagle  were  fer  on 

journey  Norfli.         ..  .  ,  .^  ,       v 

It  was  quite  ^ue  Sybilla  had  been  mamed  before  she 

Boston,  but  how?    By  a  magistrate  I 


•resentin 

And,  II 

io  the  Ee 

ow  this 

In  the 

for  his^  pr 

tn  ill-asso 

e  was  a 

*on  have 

r"in  h 

it 


But  Sybilla  was  not  satisfied  with  this.     She  was  warrw    ,  ^^^^^^^^ 
tEe  W  of ^  the  land,^d  could  rua^uway  witk  Dick  Naglt^   im^eTher 


time,  without  causing  public  scandal,  but  th»  was  not  en 


■y . 


fe^'i45*J^^&& 


'fe 


mm^'J^mmM 


palpab 

1,  and  p 
ipect,  thei 
lion  of  wl 

as  blind 
ss.v,  who, 
10  can  bi 
iso  prett 

}oung  n 


'1  of  the  e 


.:      V  ^«f    .... 


f-.^iT-^ti^-*; 


r  *  •*•• ] 

t  the  door,  love  flw 

am  sore  the  coui 

ifter  you  write,  I ' 


ter  ag^  while;  shJ  ^^  g^^j^^  j^^^  conscience  or  hJ,  •.-.k  '     r 

>f  him.  and  Wishf^^  ^  ^^      .        ^  ^"^*'  *^'  ^«  cither^for,  strange  to  say,  he 

^k-she  will  be  r iNe/yrranrH:         ^''  '™^^  ^'^*  '^"^  «^°"'d  «»op  in 
,;  let  her  feel  whtl^^^lse^  -ragain,  byade^an,  hire 

r,  -■P'f  "''"^^'f"'^^^^^  ^o  deeply-shocked  Mamma  Nagle. 

And  whUe  the.. resonant  steam^gle'' whirls  t^^ 
o  th   Empre  Qty,  let  „s  just  take  a  backward  gl^c,  and^ 
low  this  marriage  came  about  ,     K^ce.andsie 

In  the  fi«t  place,  if  you  have  been  blaming  Richard  Narie 

■  edncaUon.  hi»  vJ,^  _,  ^  „   ..       '  'T  "*    *"'«'<'  N»«te  was  not  to  blame; 

,  return.    1  -Ul  Ir "  in  holT^  ?  *      ^^  *"  "°"  """«'"  l^^-^^ 
^h.givenupfCJ.^n,:™.;"'"'''  ^''^"'^  "''-  *™wn  ". 

Npable,  gave  Mr.  Nagle  .„  „„<,.^„^  ^        ^^ 

-      bi  nd  a,  ba«  .bbu.  these  things-it  w,s..bitio».  Sister 
-.  «ho.  wuh  womanly  quickness,  saw  how  the  land  h, 

■»  pretty,  so  fascinating,  and  so  lady-lite.     It  half  u.med 

She  was «...  ,:r:.ry:',::^rH^; -;: '"^  :='■  <'«p'- --^^^^^^^ 

ith  Dick  NaH'^  ^  .  .  "°  "^'^'     "C  didn't  care  f.-.r  hgr  wpaifh  - 

It  this  was  not  en 


Aad^Mafs  how 

jle  were  fiir  on  t 
larried  before  she 


llof  the  enchanttess  without  a  struggle.  T^hat  i.  bJu  ^ 


..in 


!f^nfc-,-^ 


p 


•  .'«  >  .V' 


<3.-^' 


-^- 


n 


I  I 


/I 


I 


h  * 


•38 


TffE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


To  be  sure  he  proposed  the  secret  marriage— he  was  afraid  ol  "o*  be 
losing  her-but  she  consented  almost  without  a  demur.     She  i|veiy  day 
very  wicked,  very  bold,  and  unmaidenly,  this  unfortunate  herclPuttrng 
ineof  mine,  is  she  not?    But  how  am  I  to  help  (t?    IhaN»^eland 
searched  for  perfection,  and  foiled  to  find  it— even  you  and 
as  near  it,  I  im  sure,  as  it  is  possible  to  be,  make  side-slii 
sometimes.     And,  besides,  if  she  had  been  perfect,  instead 
*  the  feulty  creature  you  find  her,  I  could  never  have  written  tl 
story,  you  know. 

Bessy  Nagle  and  Frank  Shield  were  the  two  witaesses  of 

marriage. 

Mrs.  Nagle  knew  nothing  about  it;  she  had  not  even  se 
what  was  as  clear  ag  noonday,  the  love-p*5sages,  and  when, 
ter  Dick's  trip  to  the  South,  the  secret  was  told,  the  good  lac 
only  feeling  for  a  while  was  one  of  unmixed  constem^tic 
She^^  not  ambitious,  she  was  oftly  an  humble  Christian 
trbn,  longing  rather  to  see  her  children  virtuous  than  amc 
the  great  ones  of  the  earth.  She  was  shocked,  she  was  grie\ 
she  was  full  of  apprehensions  for  the  fiiture. 

"  God  grant  it  may  be  all  for  the  best,"  sighed  poor 
Nagle ;  "but  I'm  afiaid  of  it     I  woul^  rather  he  had  mar 
Fanny  Shield." 

Dick  wrote  home  the  day  after  his  arrival  in  New  York, 
marriage  had  been  performed  a  second  time,  on  this 
-—by  a  dergyman,  who  hadjaadeJbe  bffltjla  tod^te 


ingit 


They  were  stopping  at  the  St.  Nicholas  Hotel,  and 


■  ,iii-Ju4il;»;.:.i 


rife 


fir,  '      ^^     1       ^    /        ,  •      J     / 


'    THE  ViRdiNIA  HEIRESS,  ,3^ 

;e— he  was  afraid  ol  not  be  home  for  a  fortnight      qvK.iu 

u  M  saved  rztrzcr ""  "■'^^^' 

hi  allowance  of  pocket  m„„         .  grandpapa's  Kb- 

h  it  With  a  r«iCtr  ""  '""^"  '"  ''«■«'- 

he  .«d  0,1,  ^nT^tot^Tair ",  *''  ""'^"'^ 
V-wiU.  he,  therefor  thJanroT  '""'"'^ '™»^ '»" 

applied.  °  ""^  wardrobe  must  be 

Dick,  too,  must  be  anaved  in  all  a. 

'  Which  „a.^„<,  ^  pe::!:;r;ert::i  """r 

^eaters  must  all  be  visited  in  a         7      themselves.     The    . 
-^ci.e.e.a;Cr:hr-„^--veal. 

F".  D  ck  Narfe  wenf  ♦>,««»         .  ™ornmg'.     In  short, 

r  «.  i^agie  went  the  paee  so  fast  the  first  w«»k  fK,»     u 

fe  hotel  bill  was  paid  thev  ^.a   .u  ^*'  ^^*^" 

Led.  ^  '^'  *^''™*^'^^  ^'*  »  veiy  ill  grac^ 

While  the  five  hundi^  lasted,  all  had  been"  well    wh.    -. 
M  gone,  she  reali«yi  f^r  »k.  «_.  ..        .    ^"  ^e"~when  it 


'  gone,  she  reali«>H  ^  ^^.1^'  ^"  ^  ^°  well^^he.^ 
^^-^. ^i^J^J^t^^tiweshe^ad^^maiTiedapcior: 

Ft  was  worse  than  that  with  Dick.    When  Svhni  ' 

waen  iybUla's  sammong 


ij..! 


'■fv^Si*:.., 


§   'f-^-^rv 


140 


TiaS  VIRGimA  HEIRESS, 


i   ;l  ' 
1 1  ' 


to  come  to  Vii^nia  at  once  reached  him,  Dick  had  no  Aind^ 
for  the  journey.  It  was  irom  hand  to  mouth  with  them  at  the 
€irm,  and  highly  creditable  to  him  that  matters  were  so  well] 
What  was  he  to  do  ? — for  go  he  must  Borrow  1  There; 
Frank  Shield  saving  up  for  the^iast  two  years  to  many  blacl 
eyed  Bessie — he  would  lend  it  Frank  gave  him  his  whole  lit 
tie  fortune  of  one  hundred  dollars  right  willingly,  and  Dicl 
bought  a  new  suit  of  clothes,  a  few  fixings  for  the  cottage,  anj 
started. 

Thai  was  all  gone,  Sybilla's  was  gone,  and  they  must 
home.  The  bride's  pret^  &ce  looked  decidedly  sulky  all  tl 
way  during  that  long  day's  ride  in  the  cars.  It  was  a  rainy  daj 
and  the  windows  were  steamed,  and  the  landscape  wet  andNHif 
maL 

It  was  almost  dark  when  they  reached  the  village,  still  raij 
ing,  and  no  conveyance  there  to  meet  them.    They  were 
expected  for  another  week,  and,  of  course,  must  walk  hot 
through  the  pouring  rain.    Of  course,  this  litde  promenade  < 
not  tend  to  improve  Mrs.  Nagle's  temper.     Her  jaun^  hat  aj 
willow  plame,  and  trim  traveling-dress,  and  buttoned  gait^ 
were  ruined  with  wet  and  mud,  and  Mr.  Nagle's  silk  bat 
roperfine  broadcloth  were  deplorable  to  look  at ;  but  they  reach 
'tome  at  las^  to  find  only  Mrs.  Nagle,  Sen.,  in. 

Bessie  had  gone  np  to  Shield's  to  spend  the  afternoon. 
.     Th^  were  not  expected,  and  nothing  was  prepared. 


•..■"-■5;'  < 


fri*  «■-- 


iie  mw  out  on  the  kitchen  hearth,  and  the  parlor  was  at  sil 
Hid  wvciia^  painti  being  cleaned,  ceilings  whitewashed.    £vd 


u  •  ^  jiiuKj>>i>Aia.  ft  \^&^  .,/  t.-'l^.pC^p* **4i    t'.^ft  Aik^i<i, 


'.^-.'i.'^^^^^f^WH^^^^ 


-■H4, 


Dick  had  no  fiinds 
th  with  them  at  the 
latters  were  so  wellj 
orrow  1  Thera 
sars  to  mairy  blacl 
him  his  whole  lit 
willingly,  and  Die! 
for  the  cottage,  an^ 

and  they  must 

idedly  sulky  all  tl 

It  was  a  rainy  daj 

idscape  wet  and^u 

he  village,  still  raij 
;m.    They  were 
i,  must  walk  hor 
little  promenade  i 
Her  jaunty  hat  a  j 
id  buttoned  gait^ 
Ragle's  silk  bat 
at;  but  they  reach 
,  in. 

the  afternoon. 
wu  prepared. 


tit 


''^  ^JiGINTA  HEIRSSS, 
[thing  was  cold,  and  dreary  and  rn«,#u-*i 
lof  in  that  tidy  household'  ^"^"^  *"  *  ^^«  ^^^^^ 

-onthe..a.bu^t^l::^ 
And  ^wa.  the  bride's  return  honw/  T 


I   \K 


V\< 


V 

-i 


'•   < 


r-'Jl%k 


^4. 


!    I 


ua 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


CHAPTER  Xnt 


AWAKENIXa 


lilll    i   I 

I  1   I 


Sybilla  lay  awake  for  hours  that  night,  fcr  the  first  tim«  thir 
ing  seriously  of  what  she  had  done.     At  last  she  was  beginnij 
to  realize  that  the  step  she  had  taken  was  of  a  grave,  nay, 
awful  nature,  and  involved  not  a  month,  nor  a  year,, but 
whole  future  life. 

She  had  gratified  her  whim,  as  she  had  gratified  a  hundj 
others — rashly,  impetuously — and  now  she  must  abide  the  c^ 
sequences  to  her  dying  day.     She  had  given  up  wealth,  luxi 
devoted  friends,  a  happy  home — for  what?    For  a  pair  of  haj 
some  dark  eyes,  and  a  well-shaped  nose. 

Well,  she  had  got  then^  and  ought  to  be  satisfied. .  She 
not  bargained  for  education,  refinement,  gentlemanly  mann^ 
high  principles,  or  anything  of  the  sort,  and,  if  the^  were  la 
ing,  ^hat  right ,  had  she  to  complain  ?  She  knew  beforehJ 
what  she  had  to  expect ;  but  she  had  ^hut  her  eyes,  and  \ 
the  &tal  plunge  head  foremost,  and  what  was  there  tQ  cry  abc 
But  she  did  cry— <miet,  miserable  teaiS  of  repentance. 


spoiled  child  was  sick  of  its  gratified  whims,  tked  of  its  newj 
and  wanted  to  go  home  again. 


"'     ^-  ^  ^T>-*iS'? 


T^; 


SS. 


>-«f -tjfi; 


r  the  first  tim«  thi 

St  she  was  beginni 

!  of  a  grave,  nay, 

nor  a  year,, but 

[  gratified  a  hundf 
must  abide  the  ci 

n  up  wealth,  luxi 
For  a  pair  of  haj 

le  satisfied.  She 
sntlemanly  mann^ 
id,  if  the^  were  la 
>he  knew  beforehd 
t  her  eyes,  and  t\ 
IS  there  t^ciyabo 
af  repentance.  ^ 
1^  tked  of  its  new! 


is 


"^ffS  yiRGtNIA  HEIRESS.  .^^ 

Impelling;  a^d  tZr""™^  "^'""^  -«-'*'».  -- 

»n  p«kee.ha,dki„:hie£  """"^  »« """f""  to  hem  her 

^he™,  never  4„  .<,  i.„  ^  ^ ^  r.    .  ^ 

|he  ball-room  •  ne  J!  '  '  ""^'^  ^'«"  ^"««"  ^^ 

UneZ;:~^^"^"^°^^"^«--'^     Never 

.^^r''^'""''"^^"^*^"^-hereT^nnyso^ 

d  scSl?  r  "'"'^ "''  "'^  *^  *^-^-  -ver  came    "^^ 
'd  sold  her  birthright  fo.  a  mess  of  pottage. 
It  was  mariy  in  haste,  with  a  vengeance  «n^ 
ire,  vengeance,  and  repent  at  lei- 

Poor  little  Sybilla  ?  ^  ^ 

cod  dimlv  f«,  k  siumoer.     Perhaps  he  under- 

ooa  flimly,  for  he  was  not  obtuse  thiQ  imUf*^   a 

hd  when  quK-n  .  '*'*'*  °"'«"ered  young  man  ; 

nnth  K  "^^^^^^o^^Hmn^^r-^Jet  her  alone,  there 
nothmg  th.  matter."  he  desisted  at  ohce.    She  h  d  no" 

uch  respectforher  husband,  whom  little shock-heade^,:; 


fi!  afv  .•>  '  <("&  A  .*,  i„ «;  ^^^^Jj^yl      .' 


■ 


^rl' 


■ill  ^ 


nil! 


;iii!|  I 


.  f 


sc-yf 


K. ..... 


-A^ 


j^4  *       '  TffE  VIRGINIA  HEIRkSS.^ 

\nd  girls,  playing  in  the  streets/liailed  as  "Hallo,  Dick 
ghe  who  had  once  dreamed  of  wedding  a  CorSair.  a  Count  Lara, 
a  grand,  unapproachable  being,  with  ferocious  whiskers,  and 
clmeter  at  his  side  I      ,  * 

•  The 'family  met  at  breakfest  Mrs.  Richard  received  Bessie' 
greetings  with  a  degree  of  coldness  that  gave  that  young  lad 
mortal  offense.  She  noted,  too,  the  sullen  silence  she.maii 
tained,  her  averted  looks. ,  Dick's  overcast  fece,  and  saw  at 
glance  how  matters  stood.  Miss  Nagle  compressed  her  lip 
and  paid  no  more  attention  to  her  high-born  sUter-in-law  fioi 
that  hour  forth<^  ' 

After  breakfest,  Dick  woul^  have  Kked  to  go  to  wprk, 
was  the  busy  harvest-time,  and  his  presence  was  badly  need 

K-among  the  hired  men  in  the  fields.     But  his  lady  had  issu( 
her  sovereign  commands— he  was  to' take  her  driving.    So  Dii 
had  the  newly-painted  gig  brought  round,  and  took  his  seat 
side  her,  and  drove  off. 
Bessie  and  her  mother  looked  after  them  with  a  very  dissa 

fiedair. 


It  wai 

si?'s  tera 

(ing  from 

over  am 

Still-^it 

tell  a  wc 

in  her  se 

She  ws 

and  he  n 

'  It  was 

walk  to  tl 

secutfve  \ 

In  fom 

could  fine 

pathies?— 

Thackerti] 

and  paintJ 

lights  to 


Eustace,  s 
"  Dick  ought  to  know  better,"  said  Bessie.     "  He  ought    ^y. 
be  in  the  harvest-fields  instead  of  riding  like  a  king  round 

country." 

.     « 'It  isn't  Dick's  ftnlt," said  her  mother,  gently ;  "and, 
for  her,  poor  thing  1  why,  she  doesn't  know  any  better." 
ALSbe'U  tow  to  J»ipK^tben/!  tetorM  JBct^  I  V  jhe  <ap'' 


my  Lady  Hiflr  Hopca  any;  IdBg^^aftd  »hc  jdJ^r  as  w^.  find    ^ve  been 


-^ 


jicikifcflsbit.' 


You  see 
us  class  c 
ose  them, 
leserts;.  T 


!he  never 


A:ft>^6Ji^.. 


^x 


^  -..r 


9  "Hallo,  Dick 
isair,  a  Count  Lara 
)us  whiskers,  and 


rd  received  Bessie 
^ethat  young  lad 
silence  she.maii 
foce,  and  saw  at 
)mpressed  her  lip 
n  sister-in-law  fi  01 

to  p>  towQrk. 
;e  was  badly  need 
his  lady  had  issu( 
;r  driving.    So  Di 


with  a  very  dissai 


Le  a  kii^  round 


:0^. 


S«!Jt 


TffS  VlRGmu  HEIRMSS, 


'45 


It  was  two  o.clock  when  they  returned,  and^dtoner  and  Bes- 

si^s  temper  were  neither  of  them  improved  by  waiting.     Judg- 

ftngfrom  the  6ce.of  the  happy  pair,  the  drive  i^  not  been 

over  and  above  delightful,  and  Dick  scarcely  ate  a  mouthlul. 

St.  l-,it  might  have  been  from  a  spirit  of  perversity,  for  who  can 

tell  a  woman's  motives  ?-Sybilla  was  detertained  to  keep^iim 
in  her  service. 

She  wanted,  in  the  afternoon,  to  start  on  a  woodland  ramble 
and  he  must  be  her  escort  * 

'>  It  was  a  sultry.  August  afternoon,  and  they  had  a  nice  dusty 
walk  to  the  woods,  during  which  ^biUa  did  npt  speak  ten  con- 
secutive  words.  ' 

In  former  days  she  had  found  ei^ough  to  say  to  him,  now  she 
could  find  nothing.     What  did  he  know  of  her  tastes  and  sym- 

^.    VK-        .,    P''^''''-^^^°»'»«d  Shelley,  and  Dickens,  and  Bulwer.  and 
ndtookh^sseatl   Thackeray,  and  .'L  E.  I.  r  ^t  did  he  know  of  pc^^T    ' 
and  painting,  and  feir  foreign  lands,  and  all  the  themes  she  del 
lights  to  chatter  of  to  Eustace?^  Ah  J   if  she  had' married 
i.     "He  ought    ^^^^'^'^^"^—^^^^-b.en  at  a  loss  for  something  to 

You  see.  tins  unfortunate  SybJUa  was  one  of  the  very  numeiv 
.us  class  of  mortals  who  never  Value  their  blessings  umU  they 
ose  them,  and  then  they  ass^ime  a  ^lue  trebly  beyohd  thi 


X, gently;  "and 
^  any  better, 

j|iay  «s  w#.  fi^d 


►mngteililnthowxaticfiHJippwW 
been  a  $6od  girl,  and  maxried  bor'c 


might 


lie  nether  would  havt  beeii  ashuned  of  km 

I 


-^i^y 


n- 


r.  •  1 , 


:.i-   :■  'i 


■I. 


jl 


./.l.j 


i^alJl' 


hit  onttagii^ 


" -■*<~''-c'T'^^.#iit 


-  -'t 


>y 


146 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


grammar  would  never  have  made  her  wince ;  he  would  not  have 
been  awkward,  and  countrified,  and  silent,  or  had  lai^e,  sun- 
burned hands.  He  was  not  handsome,  to  be  sure ;  but  what 
did  it  matter  about  a  man's  looks? 

She  felt  herself  degraded — she  had  made  a  "low  marriage," 
and  lost  caste  forever  I 

She  felt  herself  as  for  above  these  New  England  rustics  as  the 
skyi^bove  the  earth—rand  here  ihe  was  one  of  them  1  She  had 
made  a  horrible,  irreparable  mistake  I 

The  love  that  tinged  all  things  hitherto'with  couleur  de  rose  j 
had  evaporated,  like  morning  mist  in  sunshine,  and  she  was  left 
a  miserable,  lost  creature  I 

Were  not  all  the  heroines  of  her  novels  and  poems  unsp^ka- 
bly  unhappy  young  women  ?  Had  not  Gulnare,  and  Medora,  I 
and  Jane  Eyre,  and  Edith  Dombey  supped  sorrpw  in  spoon- 
fuls? 

To  be  haughty,  and  handsome,  and  wretched.  Miss  Tr^l- 

ian  had  considered  the  height  of  earthly  ambition — but  Mrs. 

Nagle  looked  on  these  things  with  a  very  ^^rent  eye.     She 

was  as  wretched  as  heart  could  wish ;  but  where  was  the  ro-j 

.mance? 

To  have  married  an  old  millionaire,  and  hated  him,  and! 
been  in  love  with  a  poet,  and  lived  in  splendid  misery,  withl 
diamonds,  and  velvet,  and  point-lace  for  eveiy-day  wear— /4a/ 
would  have  been  delghtfiil    But  in  this  unbappiness  there  wa 


all  the  prose,  and  none  of  the  poetry  of  life— in  this  misery,] 
f  Kere  the  men  dressed  for .  dinner  by  taking  off  their  coats  and 


S^hfls-ji'' 


^y  «^^^- 


.     '/-i**  .         >f    ,  »,> 


my 


* 

•^ 


"low  marriage," 


,  rj/E  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


■\ 


M7 


hi 


dining  in  their  shirt-sleeves,  and  the  women  scrubbed  their  own 
floors.     Wh<y  could  endure  degradation  like  this  ? 

SoSybilla,  having  obtained  the  desire  of  her  heart,  was  very, 
very  unhappy.  ^ 

"Give  a  woman  her  own  way,  arid  it  will  kill  her,"say»^n 
old  adage,  an^Nlfear  there  is  a  good  deal  of  truth  in  it,  although, 
.being  a  woman  \yself,  I  hate  tp  own  it.  .    -  '^      '^ 

The  miserable  days  dragged  on  until  nearly  a  fortnight  had 
passed  away,  and  Mrs.  Rjchard  Nagle  managed  to  make  herself 
and  everybody  around  her  exquisitely  uncomfortable.  Did  she 
hate  her  husband  ?  By  no  means.  But  she  had  he^n  a  spoiled 
child,  arid  she  was  never  satisfied.  She  must  have  been  very  un- 
reasonable to  find  any  cause  of  dislike  to  him,  for  certainly  he 
was  a  model  to  all  married  men. 

Let  her  be  ever  so  petulant,  ever  so  exacting,  ever  so  queru- 
lous, he  bore  with  every  whim  in  silence,  jie  obeyed  every  com- 
,mand— h?  went  with  her  or  staid  at  home,  just  as  she  de- 
sired.  • 

He  talked  or  was  silent,  read  aloud  or  did  not,  drove  her, 
walked  with  her,  or  staid  at  hemeHtsTTpleased  her  capricious 
will.  He  wore  his  best  clothes  every  day,  and  played  the  gen- 
tleman of  leisure  to  meet   her  approbation..     But  he  ipver 

met  it  ->  ^ 

All  be  got  for  his  pains  were  cold,  averted  lo^,  bitter,  re^ 
gretful  words,   and  torrents  of  despairing  tears  —  very  hard 


to^  borii^    BuTHe  Bore  it,  and  Begsie's  ey«;  flasheJ^as^she 
sawalL 


r:r 


I 


\ 


»»t*  ^A-i.  >ft.5cAfc  _-i?^C-      *. 


r  t 


■tyii^:- 


148 


TffE  VIRGINIA. HEIRESS. 


"You  are  more  like  a  spaniel  dpg  than  her  husband,"  said 
said  she  to  him,  with  passionate  scorn,  "licking  the  hand  that 
strikes  you  I  No  wonder  she  despises  you  I  I  should  despise 
you,  in  her  place  1  What  has  come  ov^r  you?  You  used  to 
have  spirit  enough,  but  you  would  disgust  any  one  now  !" 

They  were  standing  together  in  the  kitchen,  the  brother  and 
sister,  alone.%  He  had  just  entered,  moody  and  downcast,  after 
seeing  his  wife  citing  as  if  her  heart  were  breaking,  and  Bessie's 
words  were  the  last  drop  in  the  full  cup. 

"Let  me  alone  I"  he  cried,  starting  up.  vehemently.     "Let I 

me  alone,  or  I  shall  go  mad  between  you  I     I  tiy  to  keep  down 

the  devil  that  rises  within  me.  and  here  you  must  come  and 

arouse  it  again.     Listen  tome.  Bessie  Nagle."  he  caught  her| 

arm  in  a  fierce,  hard  grip  ;  "  when  I  married  her.  and  thought 

of  all  she  gave  up  for  me.  I  swore  inymrdly  that,  if  she  ever  re- 

gn^tted  her  maj-riage,  it  would  not  be  my  fault,  and  I'll  keep 

that  V0W.     I  don't  care  what  she  does,  or  what  you  say  I'll 

keep  iifhat  promise."  \ 

B^ie  shrunk  back,  frightened  at  the  outburst 

♦/She  would  think  more  of  you  if  yoa  did  «.keep  it"  she 


xf-' 


"Perhaps  so;  but  that  makes  no  difference.    Whatever  hap- 
pens, she  shall  never  sajr  it  was  my  iault" 
He  |eft  the  house  abruptly.     " 
Bessie  interfered  no  more.    She  siw  now  why  be  had  grown 

hat  thai  i^tf  TOmprejBton  of  liis 
finn  lips  meant 


if^^^^kitt^  ^h^Sfdf^^^m^^}-ik^^ 


^i?*, 


:,^.V.|rf|:^,B    ii^Y^Y-- 


•••',*  '^hJW 


'  vi'&P:"^^  *'  '**i^'i*^^ 


nt&  VTRGtmA  HEIRESS.  14  j 

She  wondered  if  he  cared  for  her  still,  in  spite  of  all ;  but. 
I  with  all  her  tact,  she  could  not  find  that  out 

"She  despises  him,"  thought  Bessie.  " for  his  want  of  spirit 
m  puttmg  up  with  her.  and.  if  /  were  in  his  place,  I  should 
[hate  hw. 

Miss  Nagl<j  came  pretty  near  it  as  it  was.  and  took  no  pains 
I  to„  conceal  her  dislike.  p  ^    . 

SybiUa  looked  down  on  her  withcontempt,  and  fiesde  x%- 
I  ^"™«^  "  w'th  he^y,  undisguised  dislike.   - 

Sybilla  wept  anj  sulked,  aiid  was  taunting  and  cruel  to  her 
husband,  and  he  bore  it  with  a  fortitude  that  would  have  been 
heroic  in  a  wealthy  man.     Perhaps  it  was  heroic  in  hijn-^Sy-  '^ 
b.Ila  thought  so  afterward,  but  the  beginning -of  September 
brought  her  a  dreadful  shock.     Bessie  was  the  primary  cause. 
D,ck  was  lying  under  a  tree,  in  the  afternoon  sunshine,  i«idint 
aloud  to  his  wife,  who  might  jpst  as  well  have  read  to  hcnelC 
when  Bessie  approached  with  a  very  determined  look. 

"  Dick,"  she  began,  without  troubling  heraelf  to  make  an  et- 
cuse,  "Peter  Lyman  has  cut  himself,  and  there's  another  inan  " 
wanted  to  mow  in  the  East  field.     I  think  you  have  played 
fine  gentleman  about  long  enough,  and  had  better  take  Peter*. 
[place."  _  __      -  , 

Dick  looked  up  at  his  wife.    The  angiy  blood  had  rushed  ta 
I  her  fece,  but  she  sat  silent 
"ShalUgo?"heaskeA        ^ 


-  % 


"J»8t  as  you  ldeas(^"iepried;;Syl,iHa,  shortly;  *^iti»i^ 
ing  to  me." 


.M-.S^X^V^.  ■„ 


•i 


III! 


Hi 


!1M 


'^'^j:\:-T^^U 


150 


TJ/£  VtRGimA  HEIRgSS. 

'J 


It  may  be  something  if  he  does  no^gy  said  Bessie,  stunj 
o  he  qu.,k      '.When  a  man  o^^ a  hukd  dollar/and   3, 
not  worth  a  hund^  cents,  ^t  is  time  he,4s  up  and  doing 
Your  husband,  only  a  former,  M«  Nagle,  not  a  gentleman 
,      as  you  seem  to  think."  8'^""eman,| 

"  ^  "^^^  ^'^o^^ht  so  I"  said  Sybilla,  bitterly. 

<  ^^'-r^^on  flamed  in  her  crimson  cheek,  but  her  brothJ 

grasped  her  arm  m  a  vise-like  clutch.  f 

"Silence!"  he  <,ied,  in  a  voice  that  made  his  sister  quail  J 
"not  one  woid  I"  ^       •' 

Sybilla  looked  a.  him  «onished.     I.  ^  «  new  revelation  ,o| 
fcer,  but  she  forgot  it  in  a  moment.       * 

She  sat  where  the,  had  left  her  all  the  afternoon,  and  Dick 
Nagle  doffed  his  fine  feathe.  and  went  out  into  tile  fields 

l^din'g  ""' '"™°°"  "'  ■""  "^  ''"«  "■■»  "'-"-ed  I 

At  snpper-Ume  Sybilla  «w  him.     He  came  in  Bashed  -lot  I 

.hi?!'""'"''""'''"""  *^«'»<'*«>n.?  Wasitfo, 
*"*e  gave  ,p  grandjop..  and  home,  and  fi.tn,e,  and  fti«.d, 
«dallth.lnT„ri^nfliW    I.  ,.u.  too  much.     8he  ran  o«(  o  I 


tho   W»^K^»         J  "^"^  '*"  out  Of 

fte  kHchen  and  up  stairs,  and  flung  hen«lf  on  her  bed,  and 


.-■I*',  s^.' 


-* 


h     >1      V»1Yi 


i'     'fl'^j^vvi^-'ir.;:/ 


said  Bessie,  stunj 
€d  dollars,  and  isl 
is  up  and  doing.l 
not  a  gentleman,! 


:.  but  her  brother) 
bis  sister  quail ; 

T    r 

new  revelation  to 


T^J^ymCINIA  HEIRB&S.  151 

wept  such  tears-such  passionate,  rebellious,  burning  teara- 
as  she  had  never  shed  before  in  her  life. 

"Oh,  Iwish-I  wish  I  had  never  been  boml"  she  sobbed 
aloud,  in  her  despair.  "I  wish  I  had  died  before  I  ever  came 
to  this  1  Oh,  grandpapa  I  grandpapa  1  if  I  were  only  home 
again  I" 

They  had  missed  her  in  the  kitchen,  and  Dick  had  come  up 
m  search  of  her,  with  a  lighter  heart  than  he  had  had  for  many 
a  day.  Came  up  just  in  time  to  hear  these  pleasant  words,  and 
to  witness  these  anguished  sobs.  He  turned  ^d  walked  down 
stairs  ^gain  without  a  word.  .  , 


V^ff! 


'"   1' 


«- 


noon,  and  Dick 
^to  the  fields,  to 
ice  his  ill-starred  I 

in  flushed,"|iot,  I 
heard  them  call  j 
Jll  him  he  «>«/</ 1 

ssylian,  of  Tre- 

e?    Was  it  for 

e,  and  friends, 

She  fan  out  of 

her  bed,  and 


''  \^^^  . 


,W7 


}       ■      i 


W: 


•h' 


hi 


f^'^" 


^^ 


^ 


-#^ 


'■^^ 


•►  *. 


a; 


M^. 


.■^*€^iS¥rf^ 


THE  VIRGINIA  HMUtMSS. 


,3  <■'' 


1 1 


CHAPTEkXIV. 

okandpapa's  uetter. 

•  ^Golden  September  came,  bringing-  long  days  of  amber  sun-l 
shi;ie.  and  breezes  scented  with  new-mown  hay.  Trailing  vines 
-hops  and  honeysuckle-overran  the  cottage-front,  darkening 
the  wmdows  with  curtains  ^  Nature's  owp  festooning.  Roses 
and  heart:s-ease  bloom^  in^'the  garden,  and  any  sentimental  or 
moralizing  stiangerwi^hanced  to  pass  might-have  exclaimed 
m  fte  language  c^fToin  Moore— 


"If  tb 
Ah 


*h5?^  *°  5?  ^°'^<J  in  the  world, 
that  u  humble  might  hope  f orit  here." 


Pleasant  alliferation  of  h's  io  that  I 

Perhaps  if  was  that  the  hearts' were  not  humble,  but  puffed 
up  with  ^godlyj>ride,  that  pe«:e  was  not  to  be  found  there. 
Once  iti.ad  been  Ae  abode  of  peace  and  hospitality,  and  all 
other  agteeable  things;  but  that  was  before  Mr.  Dick  Nagle 
had  the  honor  of  marrying  an  heiress.  Since  the  auspicious 
day  on  which  Mistress  Dick  came  home,  gloom  and  discontent 
naa  ruled  supreme.  i  , 

^ck  I%le  had  gone  back  to  his  old  life,  and  slaved  as  ngy.r 


~ _-—    ''•r^_'"*>  """  amvcu  as  never 

^w^nffie  ne^oes  on  Grandpapa  Tresylian's  estate.     He 
ym.  up  and  out,  morning  after  morning,  while  •tl»e-.gtai&  that 


4.i   • 
•1 


j(^«ji?«i  .«•  1 1,1^  )rk  yZ''  u;  -e "  ^'■"  -  ''f  i-  |tu!, '  <, . ,  «£ 


"'   ,'  ,      ay.tWf'Sjiv't^j^N 


>'t"i-      f-y* 


h 


■*  r  «     V  V /■■»*'< 


rSS  VIRGmtA  HEIRESS. 


«53 


|kee>  Ae  latest  liouis  yet  winked  in  the  sky.  He  toiled  as  he 
Jhad  never  toiled  before,  hearing  the  day's  burden  and  heat,  and 
pe  iate-rising  moon  found  him  at  it  still.  His  wife  was  seldom 
jmade  wretched  by  his  society,  and  he  kept  himself  and  his 
Ihomespun  clothes,  and  imperfect  grammar,  as  much  out  of  her 
[way  asvpossible. 

He  donned  purple  and  fine  linen  no  more  to  please  her. 
[Where  was  the  use,  since  the  man  was  the  same  inside?  He 
khangedfrom  the  lightest-hearted,  gayest  young  fellow  in  the 
Iplace,  XQ  a  silent,  grav?,,  thoughtful  man.  I  had  almoit  said 
Igloomy  man,  but  the  word  would  not  fit  He  was  neither 
I  gloomy  nor  morose,  only  silent  and  dispirited,  as  he  well  might 
[be,  poor  fellow  I 

But  he  accepted  his  fatyvith  a  brave  patience  that  was  gnmd 

land  heroic  if  Sybilla  could  onljr  have  known  it--»«r*  heroic^ 

perhaps,  than  the  deeds  of  that  pet  gentleman  of  hers,  who' 

"  Left  A  Corsair's  name  to  other  times,         ^  "" 

Linked  with  one  virtue  and  a  thousand  crimes."     " 

He  never  complained ;  he  worked  like  a  giant,  and  grew  thin 
[and  sallow,  and  lost  half  his  beauty. 

As  for  Sybilla— wicked,  guilty  little  girl,  whpm  I  am  afraid 
I  you  will  learn  to  hate — she  was  just  as  miserable  as  her  worst 
I  enemy  could  wish.  .  j. 

She  had  made  a  wretched  marriage,  andi  of  all  the  mttfor- 
lOC  this  earthly  ^«»,  1  thittk  a»  mp)rttinfrctir  wirpMr^ 
Itbat     .  -  "">  ^  r    . 

She  wiibed  di6  had  never  been  bom ;  abe  wished  the  ^Mtf 


"  \ 


m 


^ 


M 


.««;.*S 


<H  ■.,•.;- 


<"  51^. 


':^'i/.?^'^*^trf 


«54 


TlfE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


dead;  she  wished  she  had  married  Eustace;  she  wished  al 
.    manner  of  things  rebellious  and  sinful,  but  she  never  got  ani 
.    of  them.     All  she  had  valued  so  little  while  in  her^ossessio 
assumed  a  value  now  absurdly  out  of  reason.     Oh  1  to  be  , 
free  and  happy  girl  once  more,  riding  among  the  lovely  Vir- 
ginia  woods,  with  servants  at  her  beck  and  call,  and  all  the  lux. 
uryandpoetiyof  life  around  her,  the  envied,  courted  hei^ej 
She  had  given  the  world  for  love,  and  thought  it  well  lost  an, 
now  even  the  Jove  that  she  had  fended,  in  her  romantic  ign, 
ranee,  would  gild  their  poverty,  seemed  to  have  died  a  natu 
death. 

What  did  she  care  for  this  low-bom  New  England  fenner, 
unworthy  to  unloose  the  latchet  of  her  imperial  shoes-this  un'i 
educated  young  man,  who  thought  Dickens  stupid,  not  to  Sa; 
silly,  and  could  never  make  head  or  tail  of  the  Revolt  of  Islam 
How  could  any  one  care  for  a  husband  who  preferred  Lev 
to  Thackeray?    And  yet  I  am- not  sure  SybiUa  did  not  care 
little,  after  all,  for  a  pang  sometimes  smote  that  cruel  selfis 
little  heart  at  sight  6f  his  altered  fece,  and  the  brave  sileiice  witl 
which  he  bore  some  cruel  taunt     Sometimes  when  he  sat  lat. 
into  the  night  in  the  moon-lit  porch,  his  head  leaning  dejected- 
ly against  its  vin^clak  posts,  her  better  angel  whispered  to  herl 
to  go  down  and  comfArt  him  with  one  kmd  word. 
^   "It  is  not  his  feuli^  Sybilla,"  that  pitying  spirit  would  say. 
''  and  he  is  your  husbahd,  after  all.     Zfe  go  1" 

"He  had  no  biWQess  to  many  me  I"  pride  said  bitterly,  a« 


reryiunju 
'U  never 
So  the 
impassabl 
In  a  w< 
Sybilla  sp 
unhapf^, 
writing  bi 
find  a  ne^ 
wild  flow< 
jmentaiy  n 
Septeml 
at  an  end. 
Eveiybo 
his  wife  wei 
envied  him 
might  not 
an  heiress. 
People  p 
her,  they  s 
looked  at  t 
turned  up 
had  she  to 
were  now. 
and  paint  fl 
she  hadn't 
French? 


**. 


6<st  (..-"pf-f.  I'-fA"*' 


s* 


■'-5, 


/ 


;  ■: 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS 


/>55 
leiy,^njustly;  "he  might  halve  known  I  would  be  m^rable. 
rU  never  stoop  to  one  so  for  beneath  me  as  he  is !"      / ' 

So  the  gulf  widened  and  wi(|[ened,  until!  it  grew  at  last  quite 
^mpassable.  ,  '     / 

In  a  week,  perhaps,  they  did  not  exchange  a  dozen  words. 
ISybilla  spent  her  time  rambling  about  the  country,  listless  and 
junhapRy,  readi^gtt|  books  when  she  could  get  them;  and 
jwriting  bad  ve||Pi^  she  couldn't  Sometimes  she  would 
jfind  a  new  novel  laid  on  her  chamber-table,  or  a  bouquet  of 
Iwild  flowers,  or  a  bunch  of  grapes,  and  she  would  feel  a  mo- 
Imentary  return  of  that  pang  of  remorse. 

September  cam^  to  a  close,  and  pick  Nagle's  honey-moon  was 
I  at  an  end. 

Everybody  in  the  village  knew  how  matters  were,  and  he  and 
Ihis  wife  were  the  current  gossip  of  the  place.  Young  men  who  had 
jenvied  him,  and  wondered  at  his  good  luck,  began  to  think  it 
Imight  not  be  such  a  desirable  thing,  after  all,  this  carrying  off 
[an  heiressi         •      ^  '^^        ]       " 

People  pitied  him,  and  abused  her  unmercifully.     The  airs  of 
I  her,  they  said— the  women,  of  course— were  sickening.     She 
looked  at  them  as  if  they  were  the  very  mud  under  her  feet,  and 
turned  up  her  nose  when  they  spoke  to  her.     What  business 
had  she  to  be  so  high-stepping  ?— she  was  no  better  than  they 
were  now.     If  she  could  play  the  "planner,"  and  talk  Frepch, 
pgd  paint  flowere  on  pa^cboard,  where  was  the  good  of  it-wfceg 
she  hadn't  a  "planner,"  and  nobody  Could  undeistaad 
French?  l« 


'■T 


' 


•   ■    r 


r 


iy« 


'■  -"wSSfJ®^ 


«9B  «»«»«« ;j2r«^*j. 


They  hoped  she  would  bebroortf  ^ 

""eiriifein  .he  »»e  ho„,e  w'^her  '"^  ""^ '^'"'^^1 

In  all  this  time  there  came  no  letter  from  V    •  •  1 

■  friends  might  have  been  all  dead  and  LI  r  V^    "" 
to  the  contrary.     Dav  afer  T  T  '     ' '"  "'«  ^"'4 

oust  to  the  J^ffi^':^  ,;L       T  """"'  "'''  ""J 

^--ha.at..„,thin;itr.:::?~"'h  ^-^i 

•»  Ret  punctually,  and  which  »,y  ZlTl^"'^  "r.'  "H 
«"...  she  nearly  gave  up  in  blank  dZ^    h!  ""       '*' 
,  b^n  too  ,rea._g„„dp,p,  -„„„  '^^  "«  cnme  had 

^  her  in  V  „„„ ,    3,^  ^^^  Jl^J^^  ^e.  never  wri,. 

fcope  to  get  a  glimpse  aga,n  of  .he  bright  wol  TiT  """ ' 

^S'.e«,d.„ki„gs„chmise.blehot::l'.tL       ''" 
afternoon  early  in  October.    She  sat  a.  Z      .       '  °"°  "'"' ' 

«  <he  leaden  sky,  the  sodden  ^L  .d"' '°°'"''*  ""' 
»i»,  eying  w4hed,  silent  Jrs  It 'h  h  J  '"^'  '*'^'"'"' 
to  raiture  out  "ail  dav  and  .T  '^"  '°°  "«  f"'  ""e' 

Pito-fork,  With  the ^int;tvnt:;°"  ""'"*°'  ''  ■•  "^^^ 
^^^^.up  „d«nttoU.ebe«,  Of  the  stairs.  „d  c^ledim- 

ae  alw.„  „a,^  ^^,f  .   ^^^  ^^       .  _ 

J!*"  gyj-P yilfa-ao ncl8rin«L..w.  -^ J-"  ^  I  ^i:'?^ 


S^. 


came  to 


i'JU'*  rf  * 


■»«wiia?6&^ 


f. 


TMB  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


U 


^. 


«57 


"^  ret      And;  asj 
how  they  endurcdl 

in.Virg^fnla.     Her 
for  aM  she  knew  [ 
•hrough  heat  and] 
Jg  heah,  and  day] 
ntment.     VVe^llI 
sr  which  we«aptj 
When  October] 
Her  crime  had 
her,  never  write 
here,  and  never 
she  had  left  I 
these,  one  rain)> 
ow,  looking  out 
'ting,  persistent 
too  wet  for  her 
•  of  its  clearing 
o*  if  it  rained 

>nd  called  im- 


It  is  too  wet  to  be  out" 


h   1 


i.1    ■' 


"What  is  it?" she  asked. 

"Is  Dick  in?" 

"Yes— he  is  in  the  kitchen 

"Tell  him  I  want  him." 

Dick  came  up  stairs  obediently.      * 

"I  want  you  to  go  to  the  post-office, "said  Sybjlla,  withofit 
,waste  of  words-  "itistoo  rainy  for  me.  There  waybealet- 
ter." 

Dick  descended  the  stairs  again  to  the  kitchen,  and  put  on. 
his  hat  and  jacket  without  a  word.    Bessie  paused  in  her  wash- 
ing to  look  at  him.*  ' 

"  Where  are  you  going,  Dick  ?"  r 

"To  the, post-office."  '  '    '  '  • 

"In  this  downiiour?'   I  would;i't  go  a  step  I    If  pepple'  are 
so  worried  about  letters, "  said  Bessie,  raising  her  vofce  for  Sy- 
billa's  benefit,  "let 'em  go  themselves  J    They  ain't  sugar  nor/ 
salt,  Igyess."  ,  .         '  '. 

"  Hush  1  Bessie,"  said  her  mother,  gently. .    '•  ., 

It  was  a  very  frequent  admonition  from  tie  good  woman's 
lips  of  late,  and  sl^  sighed  as  she  said  it,  arid  looked  anxiously  : 
after  her  son  walking  in  the  rain.   •  .  "* 

,"Popr  boy  1"  she  thought,  and  fora;noment  there  waa  an 
angry,  rebellious  feeling  in  her  heart  for  the  capricious- beauty 
up  stairs;  but  she  was  a  true  Christian,  and  it  waa  but  mbmwi.  i 

^^.     .      y  -. .:.:...:  -■ /  •  '  '  '"".  ■'. 

%billa  waite4  with  characteristic  impatience.    How  doi  ho        •    jj^  .^> 
was  1    Sh<j  could  be  there  and  back  in  half  the  time.'     '      " 


■;f'ti^-^ 


a 


"K 


'M, 


'58 


TffE  VlRGimA  HEUiESS. 


But  at  length  he  came,  wet  and 


him. 


weaiy,  and  she  flew  to  mee 


^^  .  *'  Have  you  go^  it  ?"  breathlessly.  '  / 

^J  Yes  I"  he  pulled  a  letter  out  of  his  pocket,  and  handed  it  tol 

She  glanced  at  the  writing,  and,  with  a  scream  of  ioy  A 
npstai,..     Itwasinhergxand&ther'shand,andpost-Z;rked 
Taunton.     She  kissed  it,  in  a  sort  of  .pture,  a  hunted  ^ 
then  torejt  open,  and  devoured  its  contents  • 
'  Mt  CiAR  Chiu)  •         *  Tk«sAian  HAli,  Sept.  j8. 

I  will  not  sixik  of  ,k?M    '  .  !"  """"ght  It  advisable  to  wiit 
have  eS3L^^  You  LorhoXT""^'  "'."^  ^«-^^\ 
all.     I  am  neitlier  ,4Sd  to  he^T  S  """  "^  r^S*"'  '' 
loss,  and  yet  I  can  „eve°S  you  fntu'vou  co'ISIo  ™  ""r  ^°"' 
own  accord,  alter  breaking  the  tmCeMhaTtod   ™   °^''"' I 

3Xi?£rr.s.iit\sfi'si!s?^i^^fr„f^^ 

.^gu^Come  back  to  me,  mv  darling-  I  am^£^i»i^44Sri^ 
imr  Come  back  to  your  deS5^nd&S.  ^^* 

,     •  .  Gkorgb  p.  Twsiuan. 


L¥ 


B»>5W*As»&3|g^^ 


and  handed  it  tol 


TiKS  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


*59 


.        CHAPTER  XY. 

•  '*0H,  MY  COUSIN,  SHALLOW-HBARTKDI" 

Mrs.  Nagle  wept  for  iiilly  two  hours  over  this  epistle  of  grand- 
papa, and  yet  it  was  a  great  comfort  to  her,  too.  She  wiped 
away  her  tears,  presently,  an4  fell  into  a  reverie,  the  most  agree- 
able she  had  indulged  in  for  some  time, '  She  let  her  &ncy 
[''drift  away  to  what  might  be  if  she  willed  it.  Home  in  dear  old 
Virginia — home,  and  grandpapa,  and  the  pleasant  life  gone  by 
awaited  her  again.  She  had  only  to  say  the  word^  and  ajl  she 
had  forsaken  would  be  restored.  She  had  an  instinctive  coa- 
viction  that  the  man  she  had  married  would  not  oppose  her — 
that  he  would  bear  this  as  he  had  borne  so  (much  already,  and 
make  no  sign.  .     •  '  '     * 

And  if  he  did,  what  mattered  it? — ^whatwas  A«  against  the 
Tresylians?  She  had  very  vague  ideas  of  husbandly  authority,- 
and  gingied  that  the  chain  that  galled  her  could  be  broken  as 
easily  as  she  could  draw  oflF  her  wedding-ring.  \A8  for  any  moral 
obligation  to  cleave  to  her  husbandt  Sybilla  never  thought  of 
/^/ at  all. \ \ 


She  would  have  opened  her  big  gtay  #ed  in  wide  wonder,  if 
you  had  told  her  she  could  not  desert  him  without  grievous  sin. 


\ 


'^i-^^^^»Mf*i'i^ki»!i^^^^Si<^^Mk 


•'1 


\ ;  1* 


i«.i  »f»- 


*f"7^^1^''*'^  ^7^  •*''^^?f!^?" 


too 


.\ 


■     .4 

-.,    J.  '■  ■ 


r/r£  VTAGmiA  HBIRBSS' 


She  wasveiy  ifi:nonint  and  foolish,  poor  child-drifting  about 
on  the  sea  of  life,  without  rudder  or  compass,  whither  her  own 
capricious  will  bore  her.  ^ 
*  So  she  sat  while  the  October  i^n  beat  against  the  glass  and 
the  evening  darkened  ^wn,  and  thought  of  what  might  be. 
She  miglit  Jcave  this  Axkty  life,  and  go  back  to  Tresylian  any 
moment  now.  / 

-  She  thoaght,  nntil  she  could  see  the  waving  trees,  the  late- 
blooming  Viiginia  ro^es,  the  femiliar  black  feces  smiling 
"young  missus"  welcc^e  back,  and  darling  grandpapa,  stately 
and  kingly,  with  his  white  hair  and  loving  smile,  holding  her 
in  his  arms.  '  "  7 

AH  might  be  as  of  old  again,  and  yet-^  I  Sybilla,  why  is  it 
jrou  pause,  and  look  down  with  that  regretful  fece  at  your  shi- 
ning wedding-ring '    Is  there-so  deep  in  your  wayward  heart 
that  you  cannot  see.it-the  old  love,  st^ngest  of  all  on  earth 
lingering  still?  ^  i    . 

She  sits  there,  twirling  that  golden  circlet  round  and  round, 
whije  the  daylight  darkens,  and  the  picture  of  Tresylian  Hall 
grows  dim.  By^n4  by  she  rises,  and,  leaning  over  the  banis- 
tei;  calls: 

"Dick!"  r 

^  ^ller  husband  came  to*the  foot  of  the  itain. 
;;*' Will  you  please  bring  me  a^mp?'' 
Her  tone  was  ferless  arbitrary  than  ustal,  but  perhaps  he  did  ' 
JioUiflflceitln^Jcw  minutes  he  w«  m  herchamb^FWfhl 
ligbtedlamiK  -        .        . 


'V' 


^ 


r,  !■  a- 


■>'/"?    ':u'.'*"', 


\  THE  riRQmiA  aMIRESS,         ^  ,l6l 

•VWouId  you  like  to  know  what  grandpapa  says,  Dick?"  Sy^ 
billa'asked  carelessly,  but  not  unkindly. 

"  No,  not  particularly — unless  you  wish  it" 

"Oh,  /don't  wish  it,"  said  Sybilla;  "but  I  thought  you 
might     He  wimts  me  to  go  home  again." 

She  looked  at\him  as  she  said  i^  expecting  some  demonsti^ 
tion,  perhaps.  *  (i 

If  he  had  lost  his  power  over  her,  she  had  no  idea  of  losing 
hers  over  him.  He  was  to  be  still  her  slave— her  adoring  lover, 
fit  to  go  pad  at  the  bare  idea  of  losing,  her. 

No  sUcb  demonstration  came— he  heard  her,  grave,  and  pale, 
and  silent 
'   "You  will  do  as  you  please."  .  "  ^ 

"Which  means,  I  suppose,*^  was  the  angry  retort,  "that,>vii 
don't  care.** 

"It  would  not  matter  much,  if  I  did," said  Dick  Nagli^ 
calmly.   ' '  You  are  your  own  mistress.  You  shall  do  a/you  like. " 

He  walked  out  of  the  room  as  he  q>oker  SybiU^  was  thor 
oughly  provoked.  •  I 

"  I  have  a  good  mind  to  wjite  and  say  I  will  go  on  the  spo^*^ 
she  thought,  angrily ;  "  ^  doesn't  care. "(  ,      V 

But  she  didn't  ^  ,     . 

She  began  a  long^  passionate  letter,  lull  of  compound  adjisc: 
tives  of  endearment,  notes  of  admiration,  and  innumerable  er- 
rors in  orthography  and  grammar.    She^Panted  time — ^would 


■    ■-■''si'Si'.  ,'- 

]  ■.': 


darlmg  grandppa^^^^r  a  Uttle  while  longer  to  ibmsidcrT 
Supper  cut  her  short 


-■f:.  *' 


■:^;i' 


■:-S^^^S0^lA>:^i:kA:f^^,^:;^i  •^'^' fe  'J^^^':'- 


■  •  -I     ^  V       .t 


163 


/V, 


T«B  VlRGmiA  HSIRESSi 


Frank  Shield  and  his  sister  Fanny  were,  there  when  she  went  I 
down,  and  the  kitchen  looked  clean  and  bright  Mrs.  Richard 
Nagle  never  noticed  these  low  people,  and  for  Miss  Shield  who 
was  tall  and  handsome,  she  had  a  paruWlar  antipathy. '  She 
was  jealous  of  her  without  knowing  it,  aid  never  opened  her 
lips  all  supper-time,  except  twice,  to  say,  fiigidly,  -no  more 
thank  you."  ' 

The  moment  it  was  over  she  letumed  to  her  loom  and  her 
letter,  which  she  did  not  finish  until  ten  o'clock. 

After  that,  Sybilla's  life  was  considerably  more  •nduiable 
She  could  put  up  with  the  dreariness  of  existence  here;  know^ 
mg  she.  could  leave  it  forever  at  any  moment  Why  did  she 
not  go  at  once?_you  ask.  I  cannot  tell_no  more  could  she 
I  only  know  she  didn't    <- 

Sh^Iingered,  and  lingered,  and  made  the  lives  of  those  around 
her  a  misery  to  them,  and  tormented  that  unfortunate  husband 
of  hers,  and  felt  a  sort  of  pleasure  in  doing  it  She  knew  he 
loved  her  still,  and  ther^  is  a  spark  in  the  breast  of  almost  all 
womankind  that  makes  them  take  a  delight  in  torturing  those 
who  love  them  best  Perhaps  it  is  to  feel  their  power,  know- 
J  wrA  one  penitent  word  th<y  can  more  than  atone,  per- 

but  never  mind,  reader,  take  &ct8  as  you  find  th«m 
^October  passed,  then  November,  and  Sybilla  began  to  growse- 
nouslyuneasyatgrand&ther's  prolonged  silence.     Hehadnever 
^nswer^  her  letter,  or  jather  letter^  for  shebad  writte^abo^l^ 
dozen,  and  here  was  the  winter  coming  on.    The  thought  of 


■*f' 


'-I  *  JW-J        ' 


\   •« 


„  ■^  r^  r 


when  she  went  j 
Mrs.  Richard 
[iss  Shield,  who 
antipathy.  She 
w  opened  her 
ly#  "no  more, 

room  and  her 

>re  tndurable. 
e  here;  know- 
Why  did  she 
are  coiUd  she. 

!*  those  around 
nate  husband 
She  knew  he 
of  almost  all 
•rturing  those 
K)wer,  know- 
atone,  per- 

«m. 

n  to  grow  se- 

le  had  never 

ttenabout^»= 


TffE  VTRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


163 


the  winter  frijghtened  her— the  long,  long,  desolate  winter  in 
this  gloomy  cottage  among  the  hills  and  sandy  plains  of  Massa- 
chusetts. 

What  if  he  had  changed  hjs  mind,  and  withdrawn  the  offer 
she  would  not  accept  at  once?  Sybilla  was  frightened,  and 
troubled  in  her  mind.  Matters  between  herself  and  her  bus* 
band  were  rather  worse,  if  possible,  and  she  bad  cause  to  draui 
the  wild,  long  winter  so  very  near. 

One  desolate  November  afternoon,^  Sybilla  Nagle  stood  think- 
ing of  all  this  with  a  gloomy  face.  She  Stood  leaning  against 
the  paiSture-bars,  her  hood  thrown  back,  and  showing  her  &ce 
pale,  and  thin,  and  fretted.  Her  shawl  flutteied^in  the  long, 
cold  blast,  and  her  "hestnut  curls  were  blown  about  under  her 
hood.  That  anxious,  worried  look  seemed  to  take  away  half 
her  beauty— the  rose-bloom  had  feded,  the  bright  hair  was  diy 
and  dim. 

She  stood  there,  a  lovely  figure  against  a  gray  background  of 
sky.  Brown,  bleak  fields  spread  aw%  on  every  hand,  over  which 
the  long,  lamentable  blasts  swept  «ghing,  and  the  low,  dark 
sky  closefl  over  the  landscape  like  a  pall.  It  was  all  desolation, 
like  her  life,  a  ruined  blank,  and  she  shivered  miserably,  and 
drew  her  shawl  closer  around  her.  Cold  and  dreaiy  as  it  was, 
it  was  preferable  to  her  lonely  room,  and  soshe  lingered  while 
the,  dull  afternoon  grew  darker,  and  a  few  featheiy  flakes  of 
snow  whirled  through  the  opaque  air.  "  H#     -    u*      ' 


thought  of 


RSsestly  "the  Tigufie  of  a  man,  stndlhg  across  tiie  bar^  broWn 
fields,  caught  her  eye.  •  I 


ji2<' 


I 


■^.M-'^tfS»m 


.K   ■'■f... 


164 


t* 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


WT^at  was  there  familiar  in  the  figure  and  walk  ?    What  wa, 
It  that  as  he  drew  nearer,  set  her, heart. phii^ging  sowildl.J 

ired""*"        """  '^'"*  '^^'  ^^  ^^^  ^^^  o^t:' 
"SybillaJ" 

tmt,  she  leaned  against  Uw  ban  for  support  '    "^        ° ' 

-•And  «,™  „«,  ^i„,„t.  ^,^  «iH.holdf4' her  lands, 
«.d  lookmg  at  h.r  altered  fac^     ..  oh,  SybiUa  I  Sj^billa f       ' 
^^.  cove^d  her  lace  at  that  reproachfnl  c^,  and  bum  ta.„ 

V  "^^f^"""""  »";  "I  •««  done  wrotw;  bu,  to^  ^ 
l!.U8ta<»-I  have  suffered  as  well  as  you  I"  *.  -  ■.  ,  ' 
^_  "I  see  ,ou  have,"  he  said,  looking  at  h^fei^^^^s 

pwrwithmel"  '  »  ^SST 

"Hush  1  hush  I"  with  an  imploring  gesture.     -Mn^  of 

h™,  of  grandpapa.     Have  you  come  from  yi,glai.>        .; 
"Yes,  direct"  ,  " 

.^  '-And  grandpapa-Why  did  he  not  answer  my  letteiB  ?-why 
aid  he  not  write?"  .  "    :/,        -  ^ 

"To  tell  the  truth.  I  ^  Um  «ot'ta  i  told;  him  no 
good  could  cone  of  it ;  to  wait  and  l,i  me  see  you.  I  blow 
you  Will  return  with  me,  Sybilla."      '  " 


a».  sigha  -bi..e.ly.  ,ud  luuted  with  d«a.y  ye.  ov«r  the 

oarkemng prospect      '  ^.'      :  ..  -  ,'  ^      -  T 


"•  .'"'.d'-r-*' 


^T(^£-im 


'^ 


i^v 


'  *' 


-r^ 


^  .->^ 


rjfS  FJXGIMA  SEIJIESS. 


■•>' 


^.f 


qtjt?  Oh,  Sy- 
kd  iialiuci  nation 
tion  of  the  life 
afresh ;  c^j^  we 


165" 

*^I  dofc't  know  iprhat  to  do  I     I  want  to  go^'home,  and 
yet-—-:'.      '        " 

"Anctyet— -'   Can  you  have  anj 
billa  I  surely  you  have  awakened 
long  ere  this  ?    How  can  you  bear" 
you  lead  ?    But,  'fcomtj ;  it  is  beginni 
not  talk  within  doors?" 

"  Will  you  come  in  ?"  asked  Sybiila,  shrinking  a  iitUe  at  the 

thought-'/'         ,/  ". 

.  ,  "   ■  '■       ,   ' 

"Certai%"  said  Eustace,  coolly;  "why  not?-  These  kind 
of  people  have  no  feelin|^  at  Icast'not  like  ouisl  It  is  imjios' 
sible  to  talk  here,  and  iit  to  you  i  wiM/." 

The  spow  was  begfiiaiiigto  fin  thick  *nd  fiut  now,  and  they 
hurried  across  the  fields  in  the  teeth  of  the  bhwt 
^     "Ugh  I"  said  Eustace,, \^th  a  shiver^  "these  horrible  New 
EngJand  winters  I    Why,  Sybilla;  if  you  sfirvive  the  nlhr|i|ll  - 
torn,  the  cold  alone  would  kill  you.^-  ^V 

They  were  at  the  cottage  while  he  tros  speaking,  and  Sybilla 
openett  the  door  and  entered,"  followed  by  her  cousin.  She  led 
the  way  into  the  little  parlor,  which  looked  humbler  apd  barer 
than  ever  before,  and  she  blushed  with  mortification  as  she 
thought  of  the  super!?  drawing-room  at  Tresylian  Hall.  A* 
bright  fire  was  burning,  and  before  it  sat  Sybillas  hii^ljan^,  JQ 
\iXiu>orkingchihes.        t  ''•    ^ 

res  ov«r  the"!      J^oorsf  biira  T  tfi^^contiatt  was  a  croel  one.  She  aliddst  hated 
the  man  she  had  married,  at  that  moment    She^uld  sf*  tbp 


'^■: 


■>■• 

f 


»*— ' 


gi'*? 


.,»xV>  • 


'\    c^ 


<^. 


a<iiii>  "iTTiniiiifiii 


V?'^ 


160 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRJ^SS,  ' 


.  contempt  in  her  cousin's  eye,  the  sneer  on  his  lip,  and  feer  bit- 
tfer  mortification  was  complete.  ■ 

Thertwo  men  looked,  at  each  other.  Mr.  Tresylian  bowed 
stiffly.     Mr.  Nagle  madfe  no  bow  at  all. 

"This  is  my  cousin,"  Sybilla  said,  and,  instead  of  the  con- 
ventional  "very  happy,"  &c.,  Mr.  Nagle  replied,  sternly : 

"I  know  it!" 

Eustace,  se^nely  contemptuous,  took  a  seat,  Sybilla  took  an- 
other,  and  both  looked  at  Mr.  Nagle,  as  much  as  to  say.  "Be 
good  enough  to  leave  the  room."  Perhaps  Dick  Nagle  under- 
stood  it,  for  his  fece  settled  into  a  look  of  dogged  determina- 
tion, and  he  kept  his  seat. 

If  his  wife  and  her  cousin,  once  almost  her  husband,  had  any- 
thing to  say,  they  must  say  it  before  him,  or  not  at  all.     Sybil- 
la's  eyes  were  flashing,  and  her  ch^ks  aflame,  but  she  dared 
ndtmake  a  scene  before  her  cousin.     She  could  not  veiy  well 
take  him  up  to  her  chamber,  and  there  was  no  other  apartment 
save  the  kitchen  and  Bessie's  sleeping-room,  in  th#  house.     ^ 
she  sat,  humbled  to  th^very  dust,  and  inwardly  raging  at  the 
clod  she  had  marrie^  who  knew.no  better,  when  his  wife  had 
company,  than  to  sit  persistently  in  the  same  room!" 

Of  course  confidential  conversation,  in  this  state  of  aflFaiis,  was 
cut  of  t,||^  question.  ** 

Eustace  sat  about  fifteen  minutes,  the  snow-storm  was  in- 
cpeasin|,night  was  drawing  on.     He  arose  to  take  his  leave 
witha  cold  nod  to  Dick.     Sybilla  followed  him  to  the  porch! 
-^teremeyiifllfe^  talking  in  a  low,^onfiderifel  tone  ib?  teT 


■,;y,.-,;,; 


'.«<^ 


..  JjSi-i 


>  *^«f*  f^'t 


'i 


p,  and  her  bit- 

Fesylian  bowed 

d  of  the  con- 
sternly  ; 

'bilk  took  an- 
s  to  say,  "Be 
Nagle  under- 
2d  determiria- 

•and,  had  any- 
it  all.  Sybil- 
>ut  she  dared 
not  very  well 
jr  apartment, 
chouse.  So 
aging  at  the 
his  wife  had 


)CaffairSj 


I,  was 


onn  was  in' 
^e  his  leave, 
>the 


rff£  yiJtGiAriA^^/jij^^ 


:one  for  ten    lum. 


I  minutes,  then  he  walked  away  and  S^rh.n  '^1 

[lor,  where  her  husband  sUIlT;  '        ^"""^^  ^^  **  ^' 

Then  the  storm  buret 

SyMiahadato„g„e,„d«sedit     She  paced  „„,„.  .      » 

k  lowest  ^  Wf  r   rpI^»lr''•r""'^*•' 
l    "  It  was  ve^  hard  she  could  .ot^T  f"" 

pie  was  pas.  be.ie£     She  would  no.  JT^I^^T  ^ 

K  »  "-"fon  .0  asociale  with  civijized  V  "  "'°°'<' 

nigh,  have  known  be.Id        "  """'  ""  "^"^     ^^e 

^3^anda,wa.r;L:3rr:rt  "'^■ 

t.  Of  .he  .<»„.  and  .o„  up!ui/.otn.  ht^l"'  ""  """^ 
Jeteare.  ..      ^"^  ^®^  anger  m  passion- 

The  snow-storm  Hid  not  am  mm*  ♦ 

'/.  sunshine  diasiitedi.  Ill  '"""''  **"  »"-»«' 

Sybilla  was  confined  to  bed  all  rt,.  r 

-ache;  bu,  when  he.  coll^    ^s:" ,?  ' '°""' 


Bgre^  ir-fece  to  the 


^  and  answered  v,^  coldly.    He  did 


tiused^ 


•<^ 


not 


J. 


,  *.•  iiiffc. 


V 


w. 


I  ■' 


-Pi 

llTinrtfTilfliKlliMW 


81  I 


II',     • 
i 


■NM&. 


'*     !M^, 


W 


i68 


Tir£  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS.  * 


He  was  busy  abodt  the  &rm  until  after  four  o'clock,  and  then 
he  flung  himself  down  upbn  a  projecting  rock  in  the  East  field, 
among  the  yellow  stubble  and  broom-stalks.  He  lay  looking 
at  the  low  yellow  light  in  the  Western  sky,  and  thinking  of  the 
picture  he  had  just  seen — his  wife  and  her  cousin  walking  to- 
gether over  the  distant  road. 

He  lay  for  upward  of  an  hour,  then  footsteps  and  voites 
sounded  in  the  still  evening  air— femiliar  voices,  and  the  rustle 
of  a  silken  skirt    ., 

Sybilla  and  Eustace  were  drawing  near.  They  sat  down  ton 
the  veiy  rock  under  which  he  lay,  without  ever  seeing  him.    \ 

He  did  not  get  up.  He  lay  still  as  a  statue,  with  his  ha 
drawn  over  his  eyes,  and  heard  them. 

Eustace  was  urging  his  cousin  to  depart  with  him  for  Virginia 
liie  following  week. 

"Why  do  you  hesitate?"  he  demanded,  impatiently;  "what 
under  heaven  can  detain  you  here?  I  cannot  be  that  you  still 
care  for  that  man  ?"  . 

**  It  isn't  that,"  said  Sybilla,  passionately.      "  I  don't  care 

for  him— sometimes  I  think  I  almost  hate  him  1  1  don't 
know  what  it  is — I  want  to  go,  but  something  seems  to  hold  me 
back." 

"Then  bring  him  witb^ you, "said  artful  Eustace;  *'if  yon 
can  bear  the  humiliation,  we  can.    These  are  your  grand&theii 
_E9^^  ,If  you  accept,  I  remain  until_next  jrggk;  Jf  yoa  refusel 


newed. 
for  Euro 
'•Iwi] 
withered 
go  I    I  ai 
thing,-an{ 
have  said, 
alone  i" 

She  aroj 

part  togeth 

But  he  (j 

stars  came 

kvemberwin 

[sH^L 

When  he 
I  the  fiice  th< 
■  dead  man. 


or  hesitate,  I  leave  to-morrow,  and  the  oflTer  will  never  be  r^l  v' 


Q 


'% 


J» 


u. 


#       169 


have  said     If  heaccemc  u.  k-  ^'"  ^®"  ^™  what  you 

aloner  '^''' ''^ ''"  ^°™«''^^e  refuses,  I  will  go 

She  arose  as  she  spoke,  and  the  mute  Kift.„.,K     . 
part  together.  ***^"*''  ^ea«l  them  de- 

deadmaa  **  *"  ^^^  «  the  |ice  of  a 


-h"- 


i»;»-.f'» 


never  be  r^|   v 


Bi^iss#« 


e- 


.,.1 

'V 


-A-*^ 


B*     '■•*.' 


t:  ~'  ■    J*.  In  ;r-.V  -\»i<^ 


-^ 


170 


7W£  VlkGINIA  HEIRESS. ' 


I 


r 


*!>,' 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


FRKB. 


Supper  was  over  long  before  Dick  Nagle  reached  Kome,  bui 
Bessie  had  his  hot  under  the  kitchen-stove>  She  alone  was  in 
the  kitchen— his  mother  had  gone  to  see  a  sick  friend.  -  As  sht 
pqured  out  his  tea,  his  sister  said  :  ^ 

/"She"  (Bessie  always  referred  to  Mrs.  Richard  Nagle  as  an 
indefinite  personal  pronoun),  "j^i^left  orders  that  she  wanted 
you  up  stairs  as  soon  as  you  came  in." 

Djck  drank  his  tea  and  arose,     -.      , 

"Why!"  Bessie  exclaimed,  "what's  the  matter  with  you 
Are  you  sick,  that  you  can't  eat  your  supper?  I  thought  yo 
looked  kind  of  pale." 

"I  am  well  enough,"  Dick  answered,  slowly  going  out  of  th 
kitchen  and  up  stairs. 

He  found  his  wife  pacing  up  and  down  the  floor  in  a  hi, 
state  of  excitement,  her  cheeks  rosy  flame,  her  eyes  starry  brigh 
A  half-written  letter  lay  in  loose  sheets  on  the  table. 

"I  have  been  writing  to  grandpapa,"  began  Mre.  Nagle,  wi 
startling  abruptness,  pointing  to  the  scattered  sheets  j^/^ 


He 

it,  l6o] 

"Ic 

ateiy; 

I  shall  I 

Still  1 

"Gra 

writing  \ 

"WhJ 

ShestJ 

"Don 

or  not  ?" 

"Doy 

"That 

"I  want  t 

'ng  or  aot. 

"Tell  ) 

me.     No," 

sudden  and 

I  do  not  th 

fit— I  shall 

V  Theywer 

saw  him  I 

Oh,  had  s 

He  desce] 


going  home  1" 


•lathung  in 
night  was  fro 


A    ■' 


%-':!t 


vu 


J^' 


^^ 


:  "•>-'■■ 


'      -  « 


ached  Some,  but 
She  alone  was  in 
:  friend.  >-  As  she 

lard  Nagle.as  ani 
that  she  wanted! 


4tter  with  you  I 
I  thought  yod 

going  out  of  thj 

floor  in  a  hig 
^  Stany  brigliti 
ible. 
ire.  Nagle,  witl 


Hj 


'^"^  nsamtA  mtJtsss.  '    ' 

"Grandpapa  says  y^  can  com^  if  „    » 

Whatever  you  please." 
She  stamped  her  foot  with  passional.  • 
-Don't  answer  me  like  t,,7rT  '"T""' 
or  not?"  ■    '     *''    ^'"  ""^  ^l^ether  you  will  go 

"I)oyoua;a»/inetogo?"  • 

ing  or  Rot. "  °  *'"  grandpapa  you  ara  com- 

"  Tell  your  grandfather  whatever  vn..v.ri,      • 
--     NV'hesaid,  noising  his^^''":"^^"°^^'»^  to 

;";^enandi.pe.tive  Jshetlr'.:^^^^^^^ 

I  do  not  think  I  can  bear  any  mor*  I    r       ^#t"^  '°  "*^- 

fit-I  shall  not  interfere."  ^  ^^taflS  you  think 

.  They  were  the  Ia«t  words  he  snoke  •  .-.         . 

saw  him  I  ^** ;  "  ^  the  la«t  time  sh« 

Oh,  had  she  known  whaf  tK,»     -^- 
Hedescend..  .k.  l''.'  ''*^  ^"^"^  ^^^ ' 


iended  the  stairs  tt,Kl  left  tfa^Kouse      w       ^ 

hat  hung  in  the  porch;  he  nut  f^.J         /     "^^  •»** 
"%ht  waa  fiosty  an^  stalil       *      "  "  ''  "^'^'-    ^- 

"'^iit     The  young  mai»  wtflked  np. 


■4 


^ 


;  w    I 


rri 


«:^ 


.ii  ■.;    i 


■i; 


I  1 


>       ■4'" 


/      4- 


.-g 


■  V.'  ' 


"f 


^'X 


hi  ,4 


I'l     * 


V 


kM 


,♦  Sybil 


I'^S^^^'^''^'''"'"''"'""''^*'^'""^' '" 


..li    • 


1%  W  soon  le^  th^lihkKn^ts  q{  Ae  vai|<l»fer  W    "  *" 

•J»*. •*««!* ""ft"".   She wa,^a*diiSlf*;:i4' ., wt 

iSkfH^BIiHH^^F'' f  ''■  Olj  Salt      I  ■■    '  "^     •  •  \  »■    J 1  ■*  V  ^^'f'^i       " ^^'•^  ■ '  B"-^^  j^v 

iS^jJil^^gat  up  ui^,late,  aiic^,  addl^  *Jfijwj^  line?^'  I  "^  ''  B« 

lently  ej 
tbat  has 
him?.    \ 

"Notl 

ing  home 

Bessie 

"Oh,  J 

come,  too 

know  hofl 

what  you'v 

ago  I     Id, 

come  to  hi 

She  bun 


f^^f^^lwe  n^momirig.     Breakfest  wafiver  when  she 


Do  y<Hi  know  where  Dick  is  ?"  Mre.  Nagle  as%|  •  "he  has 


M 


m  in  to  breakfast". 
yp>^  :    •'       T -"'"said  Sybilla;  "he  was  out  all  night" 

M-%      '^^  '"^^^'^  *»d  dJMighter  looked  at  each  other,  Eat  neither 
iiji'^Sp-      'spoke.  ."        ^-  ■' 

Ir  .;>'        Sybilla  finished  her  ^r^kfest.  and  went  up  staire  aglm 

•  i-      About  ten  o'clock  she  saw  Eudtace  walking  in  front  of  the  cot- 

).,       ^  ta^.  and  went  to  m^t  him.     They  sauntenKl  away  together,  -     o„e  ou 

:       '    and  ,t  was  late  in  the  afternoon  before  Sj-billa  returned.     She  I  trembling. 

^^  ,  had  announced  her  departure  for  thV  second  day  after,  and  mn  I     Oh,  what 

.     upsta,«tol^gin  packing  up.     She  had  been  busy  for  nearly  I     That  nigl 

an  hour,  and  the  short  November  ^ay  was  darkening  down,  lofthelostn 

V  when  the  door  was  unceremoniously  flung  open,^^d  Bessie  |    Fmn^  Sh 

burst  m.  *fV  ■ 


Sybilla  turned  around  angrily,  but  the  rirl's  whi 
her.  g|^ 


<*'4iWptwi  see Dictf^-Be^ie 


rv»/'S.V,;i''ti;-\:-fe.    \*- 


*ere,on  the  j 
itartled  | excitement; 
In  the  cott 
I,  Brea&- f  *as  not  mil^] 


'  t^ 


^^^  r/^cr/A7^  iSK/iPi?^^ 


'73 


fiver  when  she 

%    ■ 

sfeed-  "he  has 

■k,     ..    ■ 

er,  lat  neither 

■J 

'  stairs  again. 
>nt  of  the  cot- 
iway  together, 
sturn%d.  She 
after,"  and  ran 
lisy  for  nearly 
kening  down, 
h  «^d  Bessie 


r^'d.vouandhequan-elV  .     

•en..ye,c..e<,.     '■H^Z'^'^ '"r '"  ^'^  B^-e.  vio- 

*«  <>«  been  .e,„  „  heardc     fo^ ,"' wl"'  '""  ''""  '^ 
o™ '    Wta.  did  ,„„  «,  .„  „,„  ;••"'    «">«  ".1  you  .a„r  „f 

"  Nothing,  •■  faltered  Sybilla  fri^h,      1°"'  ""'""^k-owr 
■■"Sho^e.     lasked  him  .newt       '  "°'"^*»'I™,^ 

^    "°''-  ^-'«  .oi„,  hce^^"^  tt       '*      ^ 
">■»«.  too?    Vou  wanted  him  ,„  ^°"  ™°'«'  "»  to 

"-  ".0.  .ou  wan^edl  yo^  T  ^°"  '  O"-  V«.  I 
"-ha.  you've  done  ;  and  J  „„,„  JZLT"^  '"'"  ""^  '  '^>'"» 
;«<>'  IXon'tlncwbathas^:;^'^'""  r^o-"  W 
~".e  to  him,  ri,_i.„  ^.^^^'"i  ""^  f  anyhann  has,, 

She  burst  out-nf  ^k  ' 

trembling.  ""  "'""  "^^i"'  '«'"»g  g^bill.  „««  ^.      ; 

oHhe  ,o«  mr^-"f^'t'^  ^^  ■■'^'"-'«' -o  - 
Frank  Shield,  and  half  a  do».n^  '^^^  ^ 

»-^on  thesearch.     The  place  ^ ''""1  "^'"  °'  *«  village,  . 
;---;  -thin,.!.  1  ::-;-- Of  „„p^,,„^  .  \, 

!    ^°  the  cottage  the  m^^h.^  wgE  n#       J  '      -^^^ 


Was  not  mj&h 


<««»;  ib  ,h  w"       "'  ^' 


-f,' 


,»v 


^* 


-I 

•'  4(    I  ffl 
'.M'  Jlfl 


1 1  i 


,  «,»* 


..     .  ;  ■■/■   >' :  -  •■<,■-.  /■.,'!.  /  . 


rf 


<? 


^  fe,i 


I'm 


ii 


>^ 


7»ff  vjRGfffiA  Heiress. 

,.,...^-- / 

'  6f  terror)  ^^i^,  and  rem^e  as  is  i&describable.    Oh  1  w^at, 

vihat  ha4  she\done  ? 

The  third  davoKissed,  tfaie  fourth,  and  the  fifth  brought  tbem 
a  letter.  It  was  i^his  well-known  handwriting,  addressed  to 
Mrs.  Nagle.  \\ 

Eustace  brought  it  to  Sybilla  from  the  office,  and  sbfe  tore  it 
open;  but  il^was  not  for  her.  ,  It  began  "dear  mother."  Still 
she  read  it  in  an  Ecstasy  of  thankfulness.  He  was  not  dead, 
after  all.     Her  most  terril^l^fear  was  removed. 

New  York,  Nov.  17. 


Mt  Dear  Mother; 


I  am  sony  to  have  given  you  so  much  anxiety  on  my  ac- 
count as  I  know  you  halve  felt ;  but  I  could  not  help  it.  I 
think  I  should  have  gone  mad,  or  did  something  dreadful,  if  I 
staid  any  longer.  The  night  I  left  home  I  walked  t^\  Boston, 
and  took  the  cars  for  I^ew  Yort  next  momihg.  ^^I  wen*^  to  the 
docks;  a  steamer  for  San  Francisco  sailed  next  dajig'^  The  steam- 
er is  the  Qolden  Star.  Before  you  get  this,  I  shall  be  hiindreds 
of  miles  ^way.  You  must  not  think  hard  of  me — it  might  be 
•worse  if ^^  staid.  The  devil  flis  so  strong  in  me,  sometnnes, 
that  I  think  I  m«st  have  killm  myself,  or  some  one  elst,  \i  I* 
did  not  leave.'  Pray  for  me,  ind  it  will  be  all  for  the  best  Gi 
my  love  to  Bessie  and  the  Shields.  ,  Tell  Frank,  if  I  live  t  will 
pay  him  what  I  dwe  him,  in  six  months.  I  don't  know  when  I 
will  come  back— flaever,  perhaps — but  always  pray  for  your  af- 
fectionate son,  RicHAfU)  NaguS, 

V  ' '  ''  '\  \ 

l^ot  one  word  of  her,  the  cause  o^all — his  wretched,  guilty  wifel 

^    Sybilla  flung  down  the  letter  with  a  despairing  ay  that  rai^ 
wildly  through  the  house.        */  n  -        ,'  \[ 

"  Ob  1  what  have  I  done ?  ulrhat  have  I  done?  '  Oh,  Eft^ven] 


above  1  what  have  I  done?" 


\    ' 


They 

tace  rea( 

terrible  \ 

Mrs.  1 

«Gon 

Even 

and  trie( 

cally.     • 

,     "Gol 

you  out  1 

hypocrite, 

—my  bro 

away,"  SCI 

before  ^^  t< 

another  h 

She  mi{ 

and  torn  1 

Somehow- 

and<  walkii 

dazed ;  sh( 

dewiair  brc 

Iddi^e?"h 

all  ch; 

Eusta) 

interest     ] 
owyretemb 


^4*  '('I^Aii'/'   '*'  »^ "?  *'''*-'  jf'^  -■•  > ' 


.'-':      I&ti 


■^^^wr'^^r''p^^; 


^v,#^ 


rjIE  VlRGmiA  HEIRESS.  ,75 

They  were  in  th6,room,  the  mother  and  daughter,  and  Eus- 
tace  read  them  the  letter.  Sybilla's  wild,  hysterical  sobi  wer, 
terrible  to  hear.. 

Mrs.  Nagle  dropped  into  a  seat  pale  and  stunned.s 

«  Gone  1"  she  said,  faintly,  ' '  gone  1" 

Even  Eustace  was  touched  with  that  look  of  hopeless  woe 
aird  tned  to  comfort  her,  but  Bessie  flung  him  off  fianu' 
cally.  f*     °  •"" 

"  ^°  '" '^'  ^"^'  ^"^^3^;  "go '  both  of  you,  or  I  shall  drive 
you  out  1  Listen  to  her,"  pointing  to  SybiUa,  "the  cheat  the 
hypocnte.  the  wicked,  deceitful  creature  I  She  broke  his  heart- 
-my  brother,  who  was  worth  a  thousand  like  her  !^.Take  her 
away,"  screamed  the  girl,  in  a  sort  of  frenzy,  "take  her  away 
before  itear  her  eyes  out !  I  hate  her,  and  I  won't  have  her 
another  hour  under  this  roof  I" 

She  mighl^have  kept  her  word  in  her  momentary  madnew, 
and  torn  her  eyes  out,  if  Eustace  had  not  come  between  them. 
Somehow-SybiUa  never  knew  how-she  was  out  of  the  hou'se 
and.  walking  with  Eustace  to  his  hotel.  She  seemed  stumied- 
lazed  ;  she  let  1^  do  with  her  as  he  would.  Sometimes  her 
d^ir  brokfi  forth  in  that  wild,  terrified  cry,  "  Oh  1  what  have 

!lf  X^"'  ™''''^  -'  ^'  ''^  '  "^"""^  "^^  ""^^^  ''^^^  "^ 
Eusta)(;e  took  h^j^ip^ 

tWjoumejrdJTiSrro^rw^^^^ 


Never 

•  ^ 

interest 


^  took  her  home-a  something  that  bore  ft  shad- 
owy resemblfti^ce  jj^e  bright,  gleeful  girl  they  had  loit    He 


r 


k^ 


A 


.«:i: 


» 


1^' 

•"I 


^^ 


w 


171S 


UHESS. 


^ 


4 

P 


^*  took  her  home— a  haggard,  hollow-eyed  woman,  with  sunken 
^;^^wheeks,  and  a  heart  full  of  untold  remorse  1 

So  Sybilla  had  the  desire  of  her  heart  once  more-^she  was 
l^free,  and  at  home. 

The  old  faces  looked  on  her  with  tender  pity  and  love ;  the 
iold  luxury  surrounded  her ;  all  things  hateful  and  low  were  shut 

■V. 

outr^he  was  free  1  /  4| 

Oh,  no,  no  I  More  hollqpr  than  the  apples/ of  the  Dead^Sea 
was  kil  she  had  pined  for.  She  had  lost  hini,  and  tji^ld  love 
retunied  with  tenfold  forge.  She  had  lost^^iim,  and  he  was 
deare^  than 'iall  the  world  beside,  now.  At  last  she  could  see 
hiia  as  hf  was — noble,  and  brave,  an^  heroic,  and  great-heart- 
ed, generous,  and  self^crificing.  At  last  -she  could  Stt  her 
own  guilt— the  scalttr  hS  &llen,  Sl^  had  loved  him  once  for  ^ 
his  beauty^^e  lov^  him'^^now  forsomjpthing  fiir  beyond  ill  the 
beauty  of  J^l^lo."'^  '  ^\.  . 

'  But  it  was' too  late  I  /        ,  '^  ,      ^ 

Do  you  tl|j^N|is  changefj^ess  unre^nd  unnatural  ?    If 
so,  you  know  i^thing  about  iti^\yqBu1iave  hearing  <|:othat 
never  was  the  wind.,half  so  ch^g||fetj;as  woman,  an^m  mosT 
6ases,  it  is  gospel  truth,^^|».  -      1-         '         -  '%        - 

,  >  Mr.  Tresyljan's  joy  a]HR>v^ng  his  granddaughter  was  ton- 
^  ;5,  fflderably  modified  by  thlphange  in  her— thjs  settled  sorrow  and 
remorse.      '       , 

H%  dare  not  broach  the  anbject  of  "the  divorce  yet      He 


waited;   he  could  ifFord  to,  now.     Time  would  work  won- 


dew 


1-    ^.-     '    V 

I «s.\   „...-« 


•s- 


"i^hft; 


with  sunken 


ore— ^she  was 


'  THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS.  177 

Six  weeks  passed  away,  and  the  old  year  was  dying  in  sapping 

^  rain  and  erffifvating  misL     Sybilla  sat  alone  i^  the  gloaming, 

•W  dismal  December  day,  staring  blankly  into  the  red  embers 

in  the  grate,  and  shivering  even  in  their  warmth.    Eustace  came 

in  hastily,  his  fece  pale,  a  newjspape^n  his  hand.  ,:  "^ 

;jSybilla,"  l^e  s^id,  his  voice  unsteady,  "I  have  news  for  you." 

Slfe  looked  up  in*  a  sort  of  dull  apathy.     Nothing  interested 

her  now.  .» 

What  is  it  ?'^  she  listlessly  asked.  ' 

I  fear  U  may  be^  shock  to  ypu,  my  dear  Sybilla ;  but  pre- 
^  ^ourself.     You  know  what  wild,  windy  weather  we  have 
te.    It*has  been  worse  on  the  coast,  worse  at  sea ;  there 
have  Ipl^many  disasters." 

She  starte^  ift  wild  affright,  and  looked  at  him.  He  put 
the  i»per  in  Mia^d,  pointed  out  a  Column,  and  hastened  fiom 
the  room.  Thire  was  light  enough  in  the  glowing  coals  for  her 
to  read. 

•  'Disaster  at  sea  I    Frightful  loss  of  life  1     Wreck  of  the  Cal 
ifomia  steamer  Golden  Star  1" 

She  read  on,  with  eyes  that  seemed  starting  from  their  sock 
et8--a  heart  that  seem«d  to  have  ceased  beating.     It  was  a  de- 
tailed accounj  of  horrors,  with  lists  of  the  saved  and  the  loftt 
Conspicuous  among  the  latter  was  the  name  of  "Richard  Nagll* 

Fifteen  minutes  passed,  twenty,  half  an  hour,  Eustace  grew 
alarmed,  and  re-enteted  the  room.  She  had  slipped  from  her 
i:haic     ' ' 


withont  fiiy  or  groan,  and-4;gy^  bef  fiK»oittfae  xgrpet, 


cold  and  lifeless  as  a  stone  I 


I 


W' 


***^Ai4^-^^;&fcfe*5^4^'  ^:         *HAf.- 


-1        »  -ill,-   V    .-sAJliil" 


■aaumim-^ 


1/8 


^«l*^- 


rj»  VIXGINU  MEJRMSS,  , 


II  i 


t  - 


CHAPTER  XVa 

AFTER    THREE  'ykaHS. 

At  the  window  of  a  house  in  Beacon  street  <.  .«       ,  . 

looking  out  at  the  crowd  ebbin.rndflo         ^"^ '^^^  «^» 

-n.     It  was  a  bright,  .par  J/nTI^^^^^^^^^         ^'^«^- 

"beau^-spot  on  the  ug„^ce  ofBos    n    Ja^^^^^^^^^^^ 

joung  lady  who  watches  IS  Sybilla  and  thrle  f  ^' 

away.  ^       '  ^^^  ^^^^«  X*?*"  have  passed 

Three  years  / 

i"c  woman  of  twenty-one       Sh#.  >,«„ 
and  Jess  fragile  •  her  fnrr«  •  *^  ^""^^  *»"«*• 

lights  the  roundtd  cheek  •  „„        ,  ■  '       ""«'  "' "'" 

coil  carelmlv  at  .h.  h.  T/u  "  '^'^  '"  »  fining 

4^  !^^r^  r ' "'°"  •'■«'"  i"^ '  «<'''» 

^^^^L^  -"^  "  "to  «ift.  g.im«.  „f 


thwit,  down^  to  tte  wmt-^  young  nwi^ 


I,  S.^  ^tf 


^''V,,f,'^"'/^'V"' 


^oung  lady  sat 
5ng  the  Com- 
loon,  an#  that 
1  filled/  the 
J  have  passed 


unchanged  ? 
irl  of  eight- 
jTown  taller 
§r  and  more 
ige  of  color 
r  bare  white 
n  a  shining 
hree  shades 

it,  a  sadder 
roiltlesBof 
onn^  atta 


could  h«dlybe  mo«  .„«e«.'    Bot  ,h.  i.  v.^.  My-mor. 
thoughtless  girlhood.  "  sparicilng 

course,  but  by  gnu>dpapa's  earnest  desire."  She  has  vielded 
•6a,nst  her  wi„,  but  she  has  leamed  tp  .(.crifice  her  ol^f^ 
.ha.  of  o.he„,  a.  last.  The  humble  name  of  N^e Hr^o  ! 
prec-ous  to  her  now  U«n  the  patHcian  one  of  hert^^: 
o  please  grandpapa  she  has  consented,  and  is  ^1  T^,^' 
once  more.  **'»/imui 

Very  few  ever  knew  of  that  short-lived  marria«  •  *«,  r  •    ^ 
^u*  had  tahen  it  for^n.«,  She  had  beeTTnTs^:  r^ 
M^  WayUnd;  and.  though  there  were  suspicions  afloat  Z 
d«d  away,  aftera  time.    Some  plausible  reason  was  ^i  *^' 

'y^is^Tt  rrr"  ""^ »"  ""^  ^-^  -« 

Z.    f  [  ""^  ""'  "^  ™  known.    The  Way- 

tods,  of  cou«,  knew  all  about  it.  butno  one  besides:    uZi 

^  kept  wonderfaUy  ,„iet  and  her  old  friends  2JL  h 
as^Miss  TVc^lian  ..  „.^  „,  „,,  ,„„^^^^  ^^ -^^^  a„ 

beauty  and.  henes,  was  Miss  Tresylian  still.    ThevfounTK 

unabtountably  changed  and  set  i.  h„™  .         ^  ''" 

loveaftir     PeZ/    '  ^J" """  ""fortuaate 

love  anair.    People  were  wont  to  sm.  oCfli,  „„»  "  v«  .k    • 

y«y  hand»me.  of  cou«e,  but  ;^  WMl^lZ^t " 
who  has  seen  trouble."  *%  J?7 ;°<"»  "*«  »  P««»n 

««  Mra  lew  tad  Mowed  the  shock  «f  h,,  kashttd-.  ■ 


-I 

■! 


-I. 


fl> 


niii: 


'■ 


i  n 


'     ^J-      *     ^H^-^     •'\    '^^  "^      *'W+''»  sW^'^»^-'*^>?Uf"' 


/ 


k''-'- 


1 80 


fi 


THE  VIRGINIA^HEIRESS. 


■^'u 


death,  and  when,  after  hovering  for  weeks  and  we^eks  between 
life  and  death,  she  recovered,  but  only  to  fall  into  hopeless  mel- 
-ancholy,  her  physicians  looked  grave,  and  recommended  imme. 
diate and  prolonged  change;  so  that  her  devoted  gi^dparent 
had  taken  his  darling  to  the  fair  foreign  lands  shi!  had  so 
often  longed  to  see.     They  wandered  togetfier  through  Italy, 
and  Germany,  and  Switzerland,  and  Greece,  an^i   the  yeara  , 
had  gone  by  and  Sybilla's  reason  and  life  were  saved ;  but  the 
^  old  light-heartedness  never  came  back.     Never  came,  and  never 
would^for  in  all  these  distant  lands,  under 'the  stars  of  Athens 
and  the  moonlight,  of  Venice,  in  the  crowded  ballroom  :and 
thronged  street,  the  reproachful  ghost  that  ever  haunted  her 
'arose  from  the  stormy  sea,  and  stood  looking  at  her  with  fixed 
dead  eyes  1  '  " 

^.      She  had  caused  a  feIlow-creature:s  death— the  death  of  the  - 

man  who4iad  loved  her  to  his  own  destruction,  whose  memory 
<  was  dearer  to  her  now  than*«ll4he  wo^d  besidek     All  her  life 
,  wJenied  a  dream,  save  that  short  timnier  marriage!    The  past 
ws  Unreal,  the  present  a  weary  blM.     These  three  .months 
afene  stood  out  vivid  and  clear  in  the  retrospect     Oh  !  if  that- 
brief  time  could  come  over  again,  if  Richard  Na^le  c6uld;  iis«    ' 
from  the,  dead,  how  different  it"  all  mi^ht  be..    S^e  w^ld  love  v 
hirt'so  dearly,  she  would  make  him  so  h^py,  njie  wbuld  be  so 
.unselfish,  so  tender,  so  true.     Fut  it  was  tc^o  late,  ah<!  the  pain 
and^remorse  that  sometimes  drove  her  half  wild/  mtet  Ijat'tn^ 
they  wrapped  her  in/her  winding-sheet  » 


She  nx,  this  November  afternoon,  thiiJci^  v^^  sadly  of  all 


V 


r     \ 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS, 


^i^&f^ 


this.    It  was  the  anniversary  of^'that  mournful  da^  when  she  had 
driven  him  from  liis  home  to  hiS  death,  and  her  heart  lay  like 

,    lead  in  ho-  bosom.     She  was  alone , in  the  house.     Mrs.  Way- 
land  vfbs  out,  ^nd  grandpapa— ah,  grandpapa !— was  far  away 

.  in  deaf  old  Virginia,  fighting  for  his'^therland.  v^' 

For  the  "great  rebellion"  had  broken  out,  and  its  first  echo 

.  had  reached  them  in  Germany.     They  had  hurried  home— Mr. 

.  Tresylian  burning  with  a  younger  man's  desire  to  mix  in  the 
fray.  ,    '  ' 

.     He  was  a  "rebel "  to.  the  backbone— nay/  backbone Ind  all 
— a^d^was  Sybilla,  but  fo;  all  that  he  had' left  her  with  th? 
[^  3fe'a?<Js.  f  ^  ^ere  ju^t'the  other  way.^r  In  New  York  he  had 
I  •  m^  Eustace^  whi^m,  he  took  it  for  granted,  woul^  bum  with  his " 
j^^vra  fire,  afld*  liasten  to  strike  fbr  "God  and  liis  native  lan^l." 
J^|do,.  m.  Eustace  Tresyliah  held  a  captaiAcy  in  the  »     th 
w^rftftk,  Mid  calmly  declined.     It  was  iibsurd*  in  "t^ '  South, 
Eustace  said,  to  suppose  that  they  could  ultimately  witv  wUt  « 
they  were  fighting  for  ;'th6  North  must  gain ;  j^aa  inevit*ble, 
and  te  and  Jeffereori  Davis  &  Co.  would  all  ^o  the  dogs  to^ 
gether.     It  was  for  his  interest  ta  keep  on  the  sjde  of  the  strong, 
and  he  la^nt  to  keep  on  <he  safe  side.     A  terrible  quarrel-. 
had^9sa^,^tween  Uife  two,  and  -they  parted  enemres  for 

^.  Waldrpn  and  Eleanor  had  com«  ^orth  to  avoid,  the 
horroTS  of  war,  and  were  rPniHmj  ;».  ]m^^.  Vi^rymtijr  cotafuui 


■i> 


^ 


bly,  dn  alitUe  fortune  jpre^ntedt^m  by  the  gener(^  Vkmiua 


i;dltIexxuuL 


4i 


-•«v 


f.' 


rf 


r.\ 


:%,■ 


»'.•• 


-...^Hp.  ,  - 


■■'"  -y^i 


I' 


I(\ '';  I 


182 


r/or  VIRGINIA  HBrnasl 


So  Sybilla  was  all  alone,  and  very,  very  sad  this  bright  No. 
vember  afternoon.  Her  thoughts  were  all  of  the  past,  of  her 
brief  wedded  life,  and  the  trouble  she  had  caused  in  that  hum- 
\Ak  home. 

Were  they  thinking  of  him  in  the  cottage~the  mother  and 
sister  who  had  been  so  proud  of  him.  whose  hearts  she  had 
wrung  ? 

Suddenly  she  started  up. 

"  I  will  go  and  see, "  she  thought ;  "  I  will  gi>  and  ask  Mra 
Nagle  to  foigive  me-yes.  on  my  knees.  She  is  a  good  woman 
—she  may  be  able  to  forgive  me  now. " 

She  left  the  room,  threw  on  he^  bonnet  and  cloak,  and  in  five 
minutes  was  ready. 

The  Western  train  left  at  half-past  five ;  there  was  just  time 
to  catch  it     She  sent  a  servant  for  a  hack,  and.  whilp  waiting 
she  dashed  off  a  note  to  Mrs.   Wkyland,  telling  her  where  she 
was  going,  and  when  to  expect  her  home. 

The  November  sun  had  gone  down  in  red  and  gold  long  be- 
fore she  reached  the  village,  and  the  ^Tz.y  gloomy  night  was 
coming  on. 

Ohl  these  femiliar  streets  and  house^the  post-office,  the 
meeting-house,  the  church.  ■-' 

She  drew  her  vail  over  her  &ce  to  hide  the  gathering  tears. 
These  three  years,  that  had  made'her  feel  as  though  she  were 
forty,  had  passed  herer  and  left  scarce  a  trace  of  their  passing. 
-^IvgBJhe-AcfiaBhe  knew,  and  the  old  timetami^Auyigii  Uici, 


M  if  it  were  but  yesterday.     Once  when  Fanny  SWdl^tall  and 


■',■  ■•%■!"*}!•'"■' 


/ 


TffE  VTRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


>ak,  and  in  five 


>ost-office,  the 


183 


handsome  as  she  remembered  her,  passed,  looking^at  her  vailed 
&ce  curiously,  a  great  heart-pang  smote  her.  If  he  had  married 
her,  he  might  be  ali^fe  and  happy  yet.  She  reached  the  cottage. 
The  round,  white  moon,  cold  and.  clear,  was  rising  over  the 
dark  tree-tops,  and  the  stars  were  spangling  the  sky.  A  broad, 
red  light  streamed  out  from  the  parlor  window  far  into  the  road. 
All,  all  as  she  remembered  it !  She  leaned  against  the  garden- 
gate,  her  heart  beating  so  fest  that,  she  seemed  choking,  her 
courage  all  ebbing  away.  A  sound  of  footsteps  coming  Jlong 
the  road  startled  her.  She  hastily  opened  the  gate,  and  walked 
up  the  graveled  path. 

There  was  no  curtain  down  over  the  parlor  window,  and  the 
.5udd^  g(ow  tempted  her  to  pause  and  '00k  in.  ^^  Th|  picture 
that  niet  her  gaze  rooted  her  10  the  spot.  All  thirtgp  were  un- 
changed, the  chairs,  the  lounge,  the  bed,  the  fire.  Iil,»he  rocker 
sat  old  Mrs.  Nagle,  the  fire-light  falling  dimly  on  her  black 
dress  and  yidow's  cap,  and  sad,  kindly  face,  paler  *an  tHree 
years  ago./  .  ^  ^         ^ 

In  th^  comer,  smoking,  Frank  ShieU-sfat,  with  the  air  of  a 
man  ipf  the  bosom  of  his  family,  and  kneeling  before  ^im,  hold- 
ing lip  a  crowing  baby,  wjis  B^sie.  Her  laughing  face  was 
flushed,  her  black  hair  tumbling  about  her.  but  looking  oh !  so 
i^iihiiitely  content  i.  * 

They  were  all  happy,  and  he  was  foiigotten  ;  they  did  not  even 
remember  what  day  this  was.     Sybilla  tiirn«>H 


^wiffl,  and  walked 


resolutely  to  ihe  hotel  to  remain  for  the  night     Next  lay  she 
went  bftclF  to  Boston, 


•v* 


i,,(iili...'..>  '4.  '"    -V    ''4-' 


'.*■' 


Ill  I  Hal 
i 


'■^ 


■J  •»=,<*  ..* 


•Y 


V 


n 


I  w 


I-' 


;■ 


184 


raZ  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


Sybillawent  back— back  to  the  old  life— the  miserably,  >yeary, 
tread-mill  existence.  Went  back  to  the  endless  routine  of  shop- 
ping, and  dressing,  and^calling,  and  party-going  that  was  vapid 
as  dust  and  ashes,  and  that  left  her  heart-sick,  tired  to  death  of^ 
herself  and  every  one  around  her.  She  was  blase,  and  there  was 
"nothing  new,  and  nothing  true,  and  it  doesn't  signify." 

But  Sybilla  had  some  pleasant  and  some  profitable  hours. 
When  her  grandfather's  letters  came — a^d  they  did  come  with 
tolerable  regularity,  considering  all  things,  and  were  filled  with 
glowii^g  accounts  of  heroic  deeds— her  heart  burned,  and  the 
spirit  of  the  old  Tresylians  lighted  her  fece.  Oh,  to  be  a  man, 
and  fight  with  him  side  by  side  in  his  glorious  cause  of  free- 
dom I  *  :  • 

Sometimes  the  old  romantic  spirit  filled  her,  and  she  felt  half 
tempted  to  gird  on  the  sword,  and  %oen  garcon  to  fkir  Virgiiya. 
But  she  was  too  much  of  a  woman  for  that,  and  so  she  cdntent- 
ed  herself  with  pray^g  for  theni^  at  home„  and  improvirig  her 
mmd.  •        ,-?■• 

Yes,  she  was  improving  her  mind  at  last,  and  you  know  how 
sadly  it  needed  improving.  Jt  was  Mrs.  Wayland's  good-na- 
tured suggestion.  '    ■  .4 

"  My  love,"  that  lady  had  said,  "yoir  know  I  never  interfere  . 
in  politics,  but  the  South  may  lose,  and,  if  it  does,  I  tear  rj^ur 
grandfether  will  lose  everything  with  it     You  hayi  nothing  to 
do,  why  not'improve  yourself  in  music,  and  Frencli,  and  draty- 


"»??-- .You  naay  find  these  accomplishments  of  great  leivice  to 
you  heraaften' 


SA         V 


« 

■»    <* 

.   '-tf 

,1 

1 

»■ .  ■«•" 

... 

I  t 

- 

/^ 

v» 

K 

-  .* 

1 

■ 

.'^"- 

V 

.  .r^' . 


terably,  weary, 
utine  of  shopn 
that  was  vapid 
;d  to  death  of^ 
and  there  was 
signify. " 
fitable  hours. 
K/  come  with 
ere  filled  with 
med,  and  the 
to  be  a  man. 
cause  of  free- 

d  she  felt  half 

fiir  Virgii\^ia. 

>  she  cdntent- 

nprovirig  her^ 

DU  know  how 
id's  good^na- 

ever  interfere 
i,  I  fear.j^ur 
li  nothing  to 
■h,  and  dra<y- 


'v^. 


TffE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS, 


185 


Sybilla  to^k  her  at  her  word,  and  had  masters  once  moi«, 
and  practice!;!  her  three  hours  a  day  as  zealously  as  Ellen  Wal- 
dron  herself,|and  made  rapid  progress.  And  so  the  weeks 
strung  themselves  into  months,  and  the  months  into  years,  and 
the  fourth  and!  last  year  of  that  long  struggle  came.  Sybilla  was 
five-and-twenty,  and  "an  old  maid,"  budding  belles  said;  ^j^t, 
for  all  that,  shejwas  as  handsome  as  ever,  ^  as  much  admired. 

There  was  no  telling  how  many  offers  she  might  have;  had,  if 
5he  had  not  invariably  looked  so  coldly  on  all  suitors  outof  Jier 
deej^dark  eyes.  .  »  '      ■ 

pne  only  had  ever  got  beyond  silent  admiration,  and  ^twa?^ 
Geoi^ge  Wayland.  How  much  it  pained  Sybilla  to  refiise,  only 
Sybilla  knew.  ,  t 

"You  honor  me  by  thinking  me  worthy  to  be  your  wife," 
she  said,  falteringly.  "I  esteenfi  a«iresp«ct  you  more-jian 
any  other jnan  on  the  earth ;  but  I  wiuhever  many.  What  I 
am  now  I  will  go  to  my  gfeve,  faithful  vq  th^  husband  to  whom 
I  was  so  bnfaithfbl  in  life,  whose  memory  is  dearer  to  me  now 
than  any  living  nian  can  ever  be."  , 

So  it  ended,  ^^nd  they  parted,  esteeming  each  other  more  than 
ever.      •    "X'-^'-V.    '       t  *         ■  ' "  •--,•. 

He  saw  how  fixed  her  resolution  was,  and  made  no, attempt 
to  change  it     .      ,    -  •  '  r)  \ 

That  fourth  year  was  destined  to  bring  Sybilla  a  terrible  shock. 
There  came  to  her  one- day  a  lettei-*  sealed  and  border*!  with. 


J 


T!« i     1  ■   .^    »»  '  *  .        ■ 


'    I 


eat  tervice  to 


.**ik 


Evandykd, 


.% 


-y^x 


.Jiij 


%■■ 


,jfii 


'i           ■  .'  ■■■ 

I 

y^^^i^'p^-?y?-i--.r 

^-x  ^  li  3  a*va^  ^ 

«  n^-i^-f  '^^T'^ 

^«fjw?--*^s?jr' 

!               i 

«, 

■^'              v-^.. 

N 

^. 

. 

•'# 

'\ 


i8tf 


TWff  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


The  name  was  femiliar  to  her.     He  was  a  colonej,  next  in 
command  under  her  grandfether.  General  Tresylian.     He  had. 
entered  tne  ranks  a  private,  and  risen  by  his  deedf/  of  daring. 
Haifa  year  before,  he  had  saved  his  general's  Jife/t  the  risk  of 
his  own,  and  for  the  brave  deed  won  a  captaincy/  '|Je  was  co^ 
pnel  now,  and  her  grandfether-s  dearest  ^end.     His  letters  had 
been  full  of  the  young  man's  praises,  i^til  hfe  name  had  be- 
come familiar  as  a  household  word  to  iiis  granddaughter.     She, 
loving  all  whom  grandpapa  loved,  had  sent  sisterly  messages  in 
her  answers  to  this  modem  Coeur  de  Lion,  who  had  a  double 
claim  on  h€Jr  gratitude  for  saving  that  beloved  life. 

The  letter  from  Colonel  Evandyke  was  a  very  sad  one.  It 
announcecl  the  death  of  Colpnel  Tresylian,  fighting  like  a  hero 
at  the  head  of  his  men. 

"  He  seejned  to  have  a  presentiment  of  his  impending  fete," 
wrote  the  Southern  colonel,  "for  the  night  before  the  battle  he 
called  me  ti  him,  and  told  me  if  anything  happened  I  was  to 
write  to  you.:  Dp  not  grieve  for  him— he  died  a  soldier's  death, 
and  sleeps  iri  a  hero's  grave.  I  have  taken  the  liberty  of^tain- 
ilig:  your  pic^rc,  as  a  souvenir  of  him  and  of  you.  With  your 
kind  permission,  I  will  keep  it  My  loss  is  fer  less  than  youra. 
but  I  mour^  one  of  the  bravest  amf  best  men  I  ever  knew." 

Ah  I  what  a  blow  that  was. 

She  sat  there  in  tearless  aagoidi  fer  houra  after,  feeling  as 
though  her  heart  was  dead  wicfam  her.  But  this,  too,  pined, 
aa  all  the  blnwy  ^f  ^hiR  wenn^  earth  rtnuak,  ilUi  ^itia  mmi,  a^ 


<Mitwaidl;rtherc4aauttlediani4    Soai^Mrt  paler,  toaiairiMt 


^ 


.'%•, .  - 


/ 


i/al;  the  risk  of 


'sad  one.     It 
ng  like  a  hero 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS.     '  i«; 

thinner,  somewhat  sadder  and  quieter,  bai  to  the  casual  ob- 
server, much  the  same.  '- 

The  mourning  she  wore  outwardly  tpld  little  of  the  deeper 
Uwi/.of  t^e  heart— that  must  be  hers  whil^jtife  remained. 

*'Oh/\she  sighed,,  wearily,  "  how  I  live,  4»d  live,  with  noth- 
ing to  live  for  — all  desolate  in 'the  wide  .world!  Othere 
would  be  happier— they  would  suffer  and  die— I  only  suffer 
land  live!"  ^  '  ' 

It  was  wrong,  of  codrse,  but  I  am  afraid  it  was  natural. 
I  Those  rebellious  cries  wiU  ascend  from  the  best  of  us,  some^ 

timec 


./,. 


„    ■*"         &4..  J*  -^^^ 


'•is. 


m 

■/ 


THE  VIRGINIA  NSIXMSS, 


\ 


4 


CHAPTER  XVIIL 


•>^ 


THE    BATT.LB    OF    HIFK. 


\ 

M 


'  The  last  sun  of  January  had  set;,  ^nd  its  latest  red  ray  lin- 
gered around  the  feir  hair  of  Sybilla,  as  she  sat  in  a  low  rocker 
in  her  rooD^  at  Mrs.  Wayland's.  i^^ 

She  looked  anxious  and  care-worn,  with  dark  circles  around 
her  sunken  eyes  that  told  of  "tears  at  kight  instead  of  slum- 
ber." \ 
\ 
As  the  light  aded  out  of  the  sky,  and  t|ie  darkness  came  in, 

some  one  camertjnning  fleetfy  up  stairs.  There  was  a  swish  of 
silk  skirts,  a  breatfi  of  perfUme,  and  Mr?.  Way  land  came  breath- 
lessly in.  ^ 

"  I  have  run  up,  without  ever  stopping,  to  tell  j^,"  she  be- 
galr^,  panting.  "  I  know  what  an  impatient  thing  you  4re.  It 
is  all  right — you  are  to  have  the  situation." 

Sybil|a's  fece  flushed,  and  then  gr^w  very  pale.    " 

"I  aii»  very  gl*d,"8he  said,  slowly;  "yes,"  in  a  mdre  as- 
sured tone,  ■ "  I  am  very  glad. " 

"Ofcbur^e  you  are,"  cried  Mrs.  Wayland,  impatiently,  "al- 
ways glad  to  have  your  own  wiMftt^way.  I  don't  see  any  sense 
^^4ii4t»y«eli:--g^>iai^^4ftttly^  a  govemess,-wfaeirtfaerr  irnDt 
the  slightest  neoeniQr  for  it" 


■^k- 


i-i 


l-i, 


c 


'^ 


'*» 


in  a  mdre  as- 


«< 


it?" 


THE  VIRCmiA  nkntEss.     /  X89 

My  dear  Mrs.  Wayland  I    Not  thV  sligh/est  necessity  f^r 


a  Uiere  ut  nor 


"No !"  pettishly,  " net  the  slightest.     SuUosipg  this  ho^rrid 
war  has  swallowed  up  your  fortune— suppose/y^u  are  poor,  aU*. 
so  on— still  there  is  no  necessity.' 

"What  am  i  to, do,  then  '"  asked. Sybilla/smiliri^;  "sit  with 
my  hands  folded,  and  liVe  on  the  charity  o^my  friends  ?" 

"No,"  replied  her  friend,,  bluntly ;,  ftake  George  Way- 
land  at  his  word.  Marry  him  1  You'|i  never  get  a  better 
man  I"  ^ 

A  shadow  J)assed  over  Sybilla's  pale,  ^  face. 

"No, '  she  said,  "better  drudge, all  X  life  thin  that     He 
is  a_  thousand  times  too  good  for  me ;  but  I  don't  li^^m,  and 
I  can't;  and  marriage  does  not  enter  into  the  scS^o^  my    ' 
life  at  all.     It  js  the  only  atonement  1  cJij  make  tp  |ie  dead. "'  -^ 
^^  "  Fiddlestick  1    I  don't  4nter  into  yUx  Utopian  notions  at 
all.     What  good  will  it  do  to  the  dead,  Lur  slaving  a»d  mat-: 
ing  yourself  miserable;  when  you  might  be  as  happ/as  ihe  day  ) 
is  long)  You  have  done  wrong,  and  repented,  and  that  is  all  any 
ofuscando.     Think  better  of  it,  Sybill^"     /         \ 

"  It  is  of  no  use-I  am  deeply  gratefuj,  but-there,  j0n*t.l«st  ' 
us  talk  of  it     You  distress  me-tell  me,  instead,  of  Csitua- 
tion."     *  \  ■  i 

"Headstrong,  obstinate  child  I    Well,,  then.  Mrs.  Simon, 
has  a  sister  in  New  Vorfe  who  want 


wrote  an  ticcoant  of  you— your  profideflcy  iri 
sic^  and  french,  and  her  sister  wrote  bock  td 


/   1 


:i%-^\^^h 


^90 


r/ffi  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


terms  suited.  The  tertns  are  two  hundred  dollare  a  year-not 
very  magnificent-and  there  are  three  pupils,  all  girls,  What 
do  you  say?" 

"That  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  Mrs.  Simons,  and  will  go 

at  once.     Yes,  at  once— don't  say  a  word,  my  best  friend.     I 

have  been  a  drone  too  long  in  the  busy  hiye  of  life-it  is  timi 

'  I  was  up  and  doing.     Work  will  do  me  good.     I  will  start  to- 

morrow."  '    " 

"Oh,  Sybilla!  not  to-morrow. " 

«'t  ?     Better  begin  at  once.     Since  it  must  be  done, 
one  quickly— I  shall  go  to-morrow." 
:  course,  if  you  will,  you  will-it  is  of  no  use  talk- 
ilways  would  gang  your  ain  gait     And  now  I  be- 
^  lieye  I  must  go  down — won't  you  come  ?" 

"No,  I  must  pack  up.  I  shall  leave  by  the  express  in^he 
moi'ning.     What  is  the  name  of  my  employer?" 

"Mre.  Plummer— her  husband  is  a  well-to-do  stock  broker, 
and  they  will  sympathize  with  your  Southern  proclivities.  Mr.' 
Plummer  is  a  Tennesseean,  and  was  a  friend  of  the  South  all 
the  time,  subrosa." 

She  left  the  roomas  she  spoke,  and  Sybilla  arose  at  once  and 
commenced  her  packing. 

She  did  not  want  to  think— on  the  eve  of  her  new  life  there 
must  be  no  feltering,  no  tears,  no  repining.  It  had  come  to 
this— Sybilla  Tre^lian  was^oing  ouj  as  a  governess  I    In  losing 


-hergmnamtHerrsE^ehad  Tost  everything-fortune,  home,  all  wa« 
swept  away  1 


I 


^'■rfl?  V 


I  will  start  to- 


TUM  rUtQJNIA  HM1RSS£. 


191 


t  at  once  and 


Yet,  she  need  not  have  gone.  Mn.  Wayland  \wmW>a.com- 
panion~«he  pressed  her  to  stay— George  Wayland  camMobly 
forward  mOa  a  renewal  of  that  offer  before  rejected,  to  JPlject- 
ed  again. 

Perhaps  Sybilla  was  willful  still— a  governess  among  stran- 
gers she  would  be,  and  nothing  else, 

While  busily  packing,  the  door  opened  again,  and  Mre.  Way- 
land  looked  in. 

*'I  forgot  to  tell  you  such  a  piece  of  news  I  You  won't 
feint?"  -,  ,  •  ** 

-  c 

"  Not  if  I  can  help  it—is  it  anything  very  dreadful  ?" 

"Very!     Eustace  Tresylian  is  married. " 

"Oh,  is  that  all?    To  whom?''       . 

"Eleanor  Waldron  I      Don't  you  want  a  glass  of  ice-wa- 
ter I" 

^'No,   thank  you,"  said  SybUla,  smiling.      "Where  are 
they?"  • 

"hoarding  in  New  York— veiy  likely  you'll  meet  them  there. 
But  I'm  afraid  she'll  cut  your^quaintance.  Sha'n't  I  send  Jen- 
nie to  help  you  ?"  / 

The  evening  was  like  all  last  evenings,  a  little  sad.  Early 
next  morning  Sybilla  departed  to  begin  the  battle  of  life  for  the 
first  time  on  her  own  account  She  read  persistently  all  the 
way,  determined  not  to  think. 

It  was  la,te,  long  afler  dark,  when  they  reached  the  noisy  New 
York  terminus. 


•* 


Sybilla  took  a  hack,  and  drove  to  Mrs.  Plommer's  addrew, 


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Sciences 
CarporatiGn 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  I4SM 

(716)«7%>4503 


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«9t  .  ^      »    T^  VIRCmiA  HEIRESS.^ 

•divert  Twenty-ie^hthia^^e^K 
wa^admitted  her.  fl|Ml  n^erec^liij^^^^        ^()«0Bie  |>irl<|^ 
await  the  coming  ofther  future  mistreta    Sybilla,  all  robed  % 
ttbit%  aad  ve^  pal<  «i|«9»i^.t^|Jg|t  i»^rpw^iJ!tl|*||||ir' 

MJeaift^lUUBiUatioii,;;^^,]),^  ■^■fVtf:  .,;,;^^^^^^ 

Bella  rang,  people  crossed  the  hall^  and  w«ttt  up  attd  doim 

ali^  an^.  Wfe JialC^^  ^J!H!i^  J^^l^fl ^1!.^% 

'  maitaion entered.    ■--.-     '■•'';"(.-;■;;:•:*•-■'  "^  .--;-..:*••-.■-  .-'■■;  J? 

Sybilla  arose,  aad.W  i^  iiiat|;ra,  fiOi;  fii^  and  fiwty,  richly 

dressed,  and  with  in  evident  soise  of  her  own  importance.   Sie 

looked  at  Sjrtiila  from  head  to  foot,  yet  not  unkindly^ 

"YonarellisiTresylian,  the govemwg,  from       _ 
"Yc%  madam."   .^'    .■■.     ■   •--■       •'^•^-^^r*S<^5>^3ilAw 

H^  hdW^^  so  &st  she  ootid  haidlyij^;^ 

hfer  (C^ fen  under  that-'ptolonged  stares^?^'^-^  ^-^^sa'  ^sfsEisfislK 

'*hxt  y«a  sickly?' ""l^look  veiy  pa^"^ '■■-■^?:?;;V!^ei^'«^ 

"lam  fiuigned  alfe  my  journey,  that  isatf^^  ^'^^^-^^^^^ 

;^"iiy  sister^ksaks  <>fyo«r«c^^  ^ 

has  told  me  you  have  lost  a  fortune  by  the  wan    I  s^pafhiM^ 

^Ayjm  deeply.    We  will  endeav*  to  make  yoilaa  hapjiy 

among nsas^'poeslbk'*  ■■■-.'■■■■.^^^.i-v  ^--r^ ;,  i^::^xi:  , -■  ^by:".  :vir^:. 

f«¥o«a»^kiiid,''sildpoor%billa,  fidtetfn^    - 
«*Aad  awi  I  iwn  lit  y(W|;o  to  yow^  rooot/There  &  a  dia^ 
«»f1Sitt!r  «fr  Aih  li«iitip  «o^,.io^XwJM  jnot  have  thne  t»  introit 
dttoe  you  to  your  pnpil^  but  you  will  see  them  at^nakfintto 
,rjiheaaiigthft<i^.aodA^a^  wttmMJA^imxiA.      ^ 


♦r* 


. .  f  -^ 


^^i^i^'^imX 


t*Jit  <^^>&#3ll(|y; 


.  «;j|^$ 


'*«th:. 


Mfa^te  'iM^ii^  ftbe  mmiiil  '  Oood-nighi;  MUisftayli^ 

iSjfftfflilfbirdtMsd  the  snoirtTotillg-ivoAiatt  irptlinfi  t<|||lj||hn 
of  Maira,  and  into  a  neat  little  bedroom,  vtvy  oomfbrtaUe;^  but 

.  vaf-QnUkft  tiiything  sbe  was  nMd  Wu-^a;  j^  i  ii-^^q  .;^;*^  ^'  "^ 
?!^^]ktliei«  i^i}rUiin^  I  dbn  fetch  ydi,  mfss rafted  Suni^  akrii^ 
n^  tlie-new  governess  ciuiooslj.  ii.^iU'j''.^  .^o^cuaj 

CT^  of  teal,  if  you  please—nothing  inow.*^"'*^-  -^^'M^^- 
broqgHt  the  tea  and  departed,  and  Sybilhi  was  alcne! 
She  ^ed  np  the  gas,  took  off  her  bonnet  and  shawl,  and 
walk«l  to ie  window;     '':     '         ^^     "  ' "    ^  ^' ' 

^^><?»#  *»  '^^  »ky  pporWing  with  frosQr  8ta|R^  «^  'j|M|a- 
merable  chimneys  and  hoa8e<tops,  an4  spires,  and  bfu:^y:|r^: 
The  ooises  of  the  city  ^tune  ftr  and  fidnt— up  in  li(^  lol^  room 
no  sound  of  life  from  below  coulii  reach  |»eis  ,    ? 

^{ibe  Ism^  he«?^  against  the  window,  MiyJ^!^ 

♦*Twenty-6w,'' she  said,  *•  and  but  beginning  life;  Ch^. 
twen^-fivtt  I    Oh,  me  1  I  fed  as  though  I  ^ece  BAy,"  ^ 

SybUla  sl^pt  litda  that  night,  and  she  aiose  fevedsb  and  jmra- 
fesihed  at  daybrei^  Her  head  adisd  and  hnm*^  ^,  she 
Umwiip  thvwiiidofri  «tii(l  let  the  oold  February  wmd  laraep 
oveiriMrfece. 

■d^ihe  unpacked  hef  trunks,  and  •nmnged  her  dresset  iii  th# 
wardrobe.    Then  she  took  »  book  and  read  until  lunik 


i- 


-'f.^i 


< 


•^ 


WB  VIRGU^U  HEIRESS. 

At  thtt  hour  ihe  iwg,  and  Suaan,  with  a  sleepy  mtmCxxA 
Ab^  appeared.  ,  **' 

"WiU  you  be  kind  enough  to  show  me  to  the  breakfest- 
room?'^she8ai4  , 

Yes'm/'/^sponded  Susan,  leading  the  way  down  stairs,  and 
into  a^  elegf^nt  apartment  where  an  oval  table  was  set  with  china 
and  silver,  and  the  morning  sunlight  danced  fandangoes  amid 
8parklinfigg:las8.  The  room  was  quite  empty.  "They  aren't 
down  yet,"  said  Susan ;  "I  guess  they'll  be  here  sooa"       ' 

Sybilla  took  a  seat  and  waited,  but  it  was  nearly  ten  before 
the  door  opened. 

Then  Mis.  Hummer,  mrui^de  matin,  sailed  in,  with  ribbons 
fluttering.        •  <;  ' 

-    "Go^-moming,  Miss  Tresylian^||»  late;  but  then  wel 
were  up  late  last  night  also.     The^.|Prill  be  heie  directly. 
How  did  you  sleep?"         ■  .i  ,  .^ 

^  Before  Sybilla  could  re^ly  the  A^r  opened  agj^fn,  and  a  slen-| 
der  damsel  of  seventeen^^in  white  cashmere  and  flowing  rimr- 
*  lets,  entered. 

Mrs.  Plummer  presented  -her  at  once. 

"My  eldest  daughtei^  Miss  Tresylian.     Gertrude,  i^yviove. I 
yourgovemesa.'^^  **•>'' 

Miss  Rumm^  bowed,  smiled,  and  inspected  her  new  gove^ 
ness,  and  sat  down  to  table.  \ 

*'Gan't  we  have  breakfast,  mamnia?I-I  am  fiimished.    Fori 
whom  are  we  waiting--papa  ?" 


j    *'  Yes,  my  dear.    Ah,  here  he  jsl  " 


s. 


-^  -^  ■  •■■  *'  *u ' 


in^with  ribbons 


Tm  VIRGINIA  MEtRESS.  195 

Enter  Mr.  Plummer.  ^  short,  plain,  bald-headed,  good-hu- 
mored  looking  man.  ^  Miss  Tresylian.  the  goveme«,  was  intro- 
daced.  , 

"How  do  you  find  yourself,  my  dear?"  said  Mr.  Plummer 
with  a  paternal  shake-hands.     "^  little  fagged  after  your  jgur^ 
ney?    You  belong  down  East,  don't  you  ?" 
"No.  sir,"  said  SybiHa,  smiling,  "down  South." 
"My  love,"  aid  Mrs.  Plummer,  reproachfully,  "don't  you 
remember  Miss  Tresylian  is  fi-om  Viiginia?" 

"Ah,  from  the  Old  Dominion  !  AH  the  more  welcome  iSr 
that--all  the  more  welcome.  Sad  times  there  lately.  Any  re- 
lation to  the  late  General  fresyKan,  may  I  ask  r 

Before  SybiUa  could  answer  this  unexpected  question.  Miss 
Gertrude  Plummer  cut  in,  plaintively: 

"  Pi,  I  do  wish  you  would  cotee  to  breakfesL  You  don't 
know  how  hungiy  I  am.  Ma.  it  is  of  no  use  waiting  for  Alice 
and  Adeline;  and  I  am  sure  kiss  Tresylian  must  be  almost 

starved.     1  know  I  am." 

— ^  '  '        . 

"That's  right,"  said  her  fether,  taki»g  his  seat  at  table;  "I 
like  to  see  little  girls  hungiy.     It  isn't  feshjonabie.  I  belkve 
but  it's  sensible,  and  I  think  I'm  hungry  myself     Maiy,  my 
dear,  I'll  take  a  cup  of  coffee.    Come  here,  Miss  Tresylian,  and 
don't  look  so  pale  and  forlorn,  child." 

There  were  tears  in  Sybilla's  eyes  as  she  took  her  place  near 
.-him.  ,    -  J...-- -_ .,..  ,..■■■ 

He  might  have  noticed  them,  but  at  that  instant  the  do6r 

1-  ■» 


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1^6 


TffE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


^K^ 


^    flung  wide,  and  two  young  misses,  of  the  respective  ages  of  fif- 
teen ind  twelve,  burst  noisily  in; 

"  Here  they  come  1"  cried  papa.  "  two  whirlwinds  in  petti- 
coats. Miss  Tresylian,  have  you  a  laige  stock  of  patience  la^d 
in?  You'll  need  it;  lean  tell  you,  with  these  young  limbs. 
Here,  girls,  this  is  your  governess ;  mind  you  don't  giv6  her  too 
much  trouble,  (*/'// take  you  in  hand.  Now  sit  down.  'For 
what  we  ar«  about  to  receive,'  etc  Miss  Tresylian,  |et  me  give 
you  some  of  this  omelette."  '-* 

SybiUa  held  her  tongue,  and  used  her  eare  during  breakfest 
The  talk  was  desultoiy,  but  chiefly  ran  on  the  dinner-party 
last  night,  the  guests,  and  a  certain  Miss  Jocyln,  who  appeared 
to  be  a  great  belle. 

-"Ton  have  no  chance,  Gertie^" said  Alice;  "the  colonel 
won^  look  at  you  beside  that  tall,  black-eyed,  splendid  crea- 
ture.»  I  heard  Clara  Somers  say  yesterday  they  were  engaged. " 
"Hear  her,"  cried  her  fether,  "fifteen  years  old,  and  talk- 
teg  of  engagements,  when  she  isn't  out  of  her  horn-book.  Miss 
Tresylian,  you  see  what's  in  store  for  you." 
Alice  pouted.  ^<^ 

"  I  don't  see  why  I  haven't  as  Ifiuch  right  to  talk  of  engage- 
ments as  Gertie  \^ot  thinking  of  being  engaged.  She's  only 
two  years  older  than  I  am,  and  I'm  as  tall  as  she  is,  and  a  great 
deftl  better  looking^    Colonel  Evandyke  said  so." 

The  sudden  start  Sybilla  gave,  at  mention  of  that  name,  es- 
caped  notice  in  the  laugh  Miss  Alices  last  remark  rrp.r4 
which,  h6wever,Ter  eldest  sister  did  not  join. 


-■llii^'tl 


';..«fe:&^?|;^^^^^i|^5^<^3^9*$is^ 


%' 


ective  ages  of  fif- 


THE  VIHGINIA  HEIRESS. 


197 

"Oh,  Alice  I  he  never  1"  cried  Adeline. 

"He  did.  too  I"  persisted  Alice,  stoutly ;  "it  was  last  week 
Alice  Jocyln  and  Clara  Somers  were  in  th^  parlor,  and  I  was 
there ;  and  they  were  arguing  whether  Gertie  or  I  was  hand- 
somest Mi^  Jocyln  said  Gertie  was-she  admired  blondes- 
and  Clara  said  /W*,  and  Colonel  Evandyke  came  in,  and  they 
left  it  to  him." 

"And  what  did  the  Colonel  say.  Miss  Vanity  ?"  asked  her 
&ther. 

"  He  said  Gertie  was  Very  pretty,  and  that  he  admifed  blondes- 
so  you  need  not  look  sour.  Sis ;  bu|tkt  I  was  the  handsomest 
ofthetwo,  flfe«ar</^."  ''  <, 

Sybilla  sat  veiy  still  and  thoughtful,  ligfening.  So  Colonel  ^^ 
Evandyke  was  a  friend  and  visitor  of  the  femily-he  to  whom 
she  had  written  so  often,  who  kept  her  picture,  Whi^  had  been 
her  beloved  grand&ther's  best  friend,  who  had  savid  his  life 
and  been  with  him  in  his  latest  hours.  She  might)  see  him,' 
sp?ak  to  him,  this  young  hero  of  whom  she  ha<^  heaid  so 
much.  '  , 

Her  heart  throbbed  &st  at  the  thought  Of  all  the  men  in 
the  wide  world,  there  was  not  bne  she  desired  to  see  as  she  de- 
sired to  see  him. 

Breakfest  over.  Sybilla's  duties  commenced  at  once.  Mrs. 
Hummer  and  her  daughters  led  herto  a  large,  airy  room  on 
the  third  floor,  which  was  to  be  the  school-room,  and  whew 
SIX  hours  each  day  must  be  spent 


•1-pea  she  was  co^ucted  to  the  drawing-room,  and  the  grand 


.'iMiBft 


'.^.d- 


.--^ 

,* 

\  5««i':i'S|':: 

^^■" 

??S©3I 

i^H? 

:i 


'•r^r\: 


1^ 


S'<^, 


ys-j.'^r* 


198 


"%»£  VHtGlNU  HMJRMSS. 


piano  opened.  Her  white,  handi  .wept  over  the  key.  in  . 
.torm  of  melody,  and  Viri.  Hummer  was  more  than  ^t- 
lified.  ' 

-You  play  remarkably  well,"  she  said.     "  I  want  you  to  pay 

particular  attention  to  my  girls' music  Po  you  sing.  Miss  Tr^ 
syhan? 

Sybilla  sang  a  plaintive  song  from  Lucia,  and  again  her  em- 
ployerwas  charmed.  She  had  gotamfisical  treasure,  and  could 
appreciate  her. 

So  Sybilla>n?w  life  began,  and  went  on,  day  after  day,  with 
tread-mill  reg^IaWtj^.  "^'      "* 

Outwardly  she  was  a  pale,  quiet,  passionless  automaton  iro- 
mg  through  her  daily  drudgeiy  with  feultless  precision,  and  win- 
nmg  golden  opinions  from  parents  and  pupils.  Inwardly  there 
was  neither  quiet  nor  peace-there  were  mutiny  and  rebellion 
enough  to  drive  her  wild. 

She  hated  it  all.  this  horrible  routine  of  piano-playing,  and 
French  verbs,  and  Bristol  board,  and  crayons-this  never-end- 
ing teach,  teach,  teach. 

But  her  fece  never  showed  it,  except  for  its  unspeakably  weary 
look.  She  was^  patient  and  gentle  always^  and  never  shirked  a 
duty,  however  disagreeable. 

Long  ago,  in  those  romantic  days  of  hers,  she  had  thought  it 
k!^  *7,'°  ^  *  «^^«™^  Was  not  Jane  ^^  .nd  Ruth 
Pinch,  and  half  of  her  heroines,  governesses?  But,  like  all  her 
d««ns,  the  realiation  was  not  half  w  charming  as  die  had  im- 
agincd 


^^' 


S«i,it«iv  V  '"am  ■.^** '  ■«  -n"-.' « "S^  ; 


^.     ' 


She 

Her  en 

erably , 

It  is  tri 

Waldro 

Mrs. 

was  a  d( 

there  w; 

and  sin^ 

forlifre, 

and^mal 

erness,  a 

place,  a 

self. 

Ofcoi 
ing  to  an 
bellion  w 
ness,  to  I 
aton. 

She  wa 

so  little  ii 

might,  h\ 

miles  awa 

Poor  S> 

Three  \ 

dyke  was { 

been  at  th( 


■■»-*-- 
i^ 


^-■•.* 


7  after  day,  with 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS.  ,5^ 

She  was  not  snubbed,  nor  insulted,  nor  ill-used  in  an        ' 
Her  e^yerB  treated  her  like  a^Iady,  and  her  pupils  were"! 
erablygoo^  andobedient     What  right  had  she  to  JpL 
^>s  true,  her  position  was  ve^  different  fro.  that  of  Elea  or 

M,^  Plummer  was  kind,  bat  that  made  .he  governess  feel  she 
™  a  dependent    No  du>,co„,d  be  sh.Aed  wUh  CX  ^  ■ 

^:z^T'' "'  '"'"""^  ^-^  '^^'  ">  --^-n 

r«r*f^  Plumme,  ,0  darn  I,er  glov«,  and  mend  her  e„m  ,ace 
an^«,ake  he.elf  nseful  gerie.l„.     I„  ,h„„,  ,,,  „^  ^^^  J^^ 
ernes,  and  expec^d  „o.  .o  give  herself  airs,  b„.  .o  keepZ 
Pi^e,  and  do  as  her  mis.^  chose,   no.  as  she  chose  he" 

Of  course,  all  U.is  was  very  galling,  a„d  t^„„_  ^^  ^ 
.ng.oan  undisciplined  mind  like  Sybilla's.    Bul-.|,  Zlt 
ben-on  w,.  inward-I  am  happ,  .o  sa,  she  was  a  „o^  ,  «:;„ 
n^  to  observng  e,es,  on.,  a  ii.tle  ^  much  of  the  a!Z 

She  was  «  mechanical,  Mrs.  Hummer  complained  •  she  t«k 
so  ...tie  interest;  she  performed  her  duties  we  I,  asamt^c 
..gH^ni.  -  ,ui.e  eviden,  ^U.  .houghts  thou^; 
PoorSybillal  «  / 

Three  weeks  passed.     S.billa's  desire  to  see  Colonel  E«n.  • 
_4^e^M,ongas eve,  bu...^  was  uagraaiied.    ^^ 
b«n  a.  d.e  house  the  da,  after  her  arrival,  but  she  had  „^  s^ 


1^ 


y\K  ^fr^jft-  .■'Ji^f-jK*  jr..~[»,v  Nj.  ,41 


^-::c;j^ii 


A 


I 


■  • 


;■%. 


200 


,     TffJS  VIRGINIA  HEIRES^. 

him  and  he  had  left  New  York  ve.y  soon  after.'  Neither  had  she 
met  Eustace  or  Eleanor.  They  were  not  on  the  Plummer  visit- 
"»g-list,  and  she  w^m  out  v<^  rarely.  Her  whole  day  was  fully 
occupied,  and  she  was  too  weary  and  wretched  when  evening 
came  to  care  for  anything  but  to  lie  down  in  her  darkened  room 
and  be  at  rest  ,  ,  « 

>    Or^  day,  toward  the  close  of  the  third  week.  Gertrude  burst 
into  the  class-room  in  a  high  state  of  excitement 

-Oh,  Miss  Tresylian  l"shecried.  •'!  have  such  newsfor  you  - 
Next  Wednesday  is  my  birthday,  and  mamma  is  going  to  give  a 
grand  party.     Won't  it  be  lovely  ?" 

Miss  Tresylian.  just  glancing  up  from  Alice's  drawing,  said 
she  had  no  doubt -it  wouU  be  lovely,  and  resumed  her  work 
"And  I  am  to  learn  that  duet  from  Linda,  Miss  Tresylian 
and  sing  it  with  you.  and  two  or  three  more  besides;  so  you  see 
you  must  come  down,  too."  / 

The  governess  knit  her  brows,  but  ra,de  no  reply,  as  she  went 
on  with  her  work. 

Alice  looked  up  suddenly. 

Has  Colonel  Evandyke  come  back  ?" 
"Yes,"  said  her  sister. 

'"Ah.  I  thought  so  I"  said  shrewd  Alice.      «  He'H  be  here  of, 
course.     Miss  Tresylian,  don't  you  want  to  see  the  gentleman 
Gertie  is  dead  in  love  with?    Oh  1  you  needn't  blush  so~it's 
nothmg  to  be  ashamed  of     Half  the  young  ladies  that  come 
here,  from  Missjocyln  down,  are  in  the  same  state." 
:====^itte  SQ  haodsome,  then  ?"  asked  the  govem^r^rerMsTy,  |  sair. 


"Am 

"Oh, 

that  he  i 

even  hej 

wonder  i 

— but-pe 

thing  in  i 

thropical 

ed,  as  fei 

have  used 

thai." 

"Is  he 


■"•■Wa,?  t     ^(V*A^  *^    ■S&5*>'-§^»-  * 


fMt     S         '*i*l 


^HE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS.  ,         ,o, 

or  someehing  of  U«.  so„-u«  J7  d, A      H  "J         """"'  ' 

-Mcho,.  as .  he  ^ .  ^„;  ::„:  tt^""  otr 

magnificent]"  » /""  ^tijow.     Ub,\hes 

Sybilla  could  hardly  forbear  laughing.  ^  "       "    \ 

"I'm  afiaid  j^hat  Alice  says  is  tmi.    r^    a 
love  I"  ^        ™*^'  Gertrude-you're  in    \ 

' '  Oh,  pshaw  I  he  takes  no  notice  of  m^ f  ,  .    > 

mat«  hta  ..ore  tot^Ung  U»„  an,U,iX' 
"A  mysteiy—what  is  it?"  •  ' 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.     Some  folks  say  he's  a  wM« 


^i'-;! 


f( 


> 

..•-''• 


.^x 


\.t  • 


r  ~ 


■^. 


J i- 


io» 


^* 


THE  VIRCmiA  HEIRESS. 


"  Oh,  no-about  t^W  I  should  think..  But  you'll  see  him 
^  yo„..,f  Weanesda^igh,  «d  ,„„  „„,  ^,  ZsZ^ 
Handsomest  man  j^ou  ever  laid  eyes  on."  "  \ 

,        The  old  leaven  of  romance  being  by  no  means  dead  in^the 

bmhday  mght  almost »  eagerly  a,  Gertipde  hj>,.eli:     She  ever, 
we»..  on  one  o«a«on,  so  &r  „  ^  ,„„<,„  ^^^  ^^  ^^^^^ 

"But,  bah  r  she  said  to  he.«If,-direo,|y  after, ''.,hat a  dm- 
pleton  I  an. .  As  if  he.  or  any  one  else,  will  ever  look  at  the 
governess-or  as  if  I  wanted  to  thmst  myself  on  his  notice." 

So  M,ss  Tresylian  drove  the  matter  resolutely  from  her  mind 
«.d  walked  up  and  down  her  tread-mill  as  steadily  as  any  other 
nnfortunate  j«l.bird,  «.d  waited  for  the  eventful  Wedn^J 
come.       .  *  '^"csaay  to 


\ 


^^. 


Itc 

billa  u, 

down, 

Whatb 

an dyke 

did  tfot 

better  tl 

She  was 

him  moi 

She  sa 

day  for  d; 

rings  in  h 

of  her  left 

sad  dream 

symbol,  w 

it  was  e 

Sounds 

distracted  ] 

3fieh^a^ 


'/ 


♦■  / 


Jilktf  -»^.  -Aiv' 


s. 

I 

But  you'll  see  him 
say  hfe  is  the  very 

means  dead  in. the 
1  her  interest  in  the 

'ard  to  the  eventful 
h/erself  She  even 
■  what  she  should 

fter,  "whatasim- 
1  ever  look  at  the 
on  his  notice. " 
y  frona^  her  mind, 
idily  as  any  other 
^1  Wednesday  to 


■io^ 


N 


>    ■ 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

A   SHADOW   FROM   THE   DEAD.         ^     ,     ,  '^  ' 

did  aot  want  to  think  „f  i.-         f^'Pf^")' '"  her  mmd  >    She- 
^•ter  things  to  do  and  t'  "J^"-^^"'  '■"■■r-she  had 
She  was  ifi!  „g,  J;^  L  'r  t  "5  »'  '■  ^-■7  other  ho„. 
Km  „orc.  /     '""^'^  ^""^  "^^  ™'/  -^  h«  think  of 

-"  it;:rn  r;::^:r  r  t-^  - ' 

"*  in  her  ea..  and  a  p,ai„  c  Lie."  f     u"'     "'"'  ^"  "'- 
Of  her  ,eft  hand-her  weidi;:?  lift":  "'  '"'"'  '"'''' 
-"  drean,,  b„.  the  great  evenfoft  ^"- 1/  f  IT  '  ™^"'' 
symbol,  was  a  reality  •  *"  ""^  "'"=''  *«  «M  the     ^ 

II  was  eleven  o'clock. 

phe  had  Wn  .,„_^t:    ~  .  ,    "^ 


/ 


«^Wb„s^he,pi^.Gertr„de,a^.„,;„^,,. 


•f:- 


;«jii£al3^'si^.v"f  :?'i-i  "■»■ 'w^i 


>jfei.t<t4ail'-  i- tiftfr.tVjjiili'    i"-.tin>\' 


'ft'--  Al  'J 


ao4 


7ME  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 
Her  own  toilet  did  not  occupy  fifteen^  min- 


eline  to  dress. 

tltCS.  A 

She  had  sat  listening  to  the  arrivals  and  the  sounds  from  below, 
and  thinking  of  the  gay  scenes  and  birthday  fetes  of  which  she 
had  been  queen,  until  her  grandfether  rose  from  the  grave,  and 
stood  beside  her. 

She  tried  in  vain  to  fix  ^er  attention  on  her  book ;  she  laid  it 
down  in  despair,  and,  as  ste  did  so,  her  dqor  opened  unceremo- 
niously,  and  Adeline  rushed  in. 

"You  are  to  go  down  stairs,  Miss  Tresylian ;  Gertie  is  going 
to  sing  the  dii^t" 

Sybilla  rose  in  considerable  trepidation,  and  followed  Adeline 
down  stairs. 

The  long  drawing-room  was  so  filled  with  people,  standing, 
and  walking,  and  sitting,  that  she  managed  tp  cross  to  the  piano 
almost  unobserved. 
if>,«  Gertrude  was  on  the  watch,  and  came  up. 

"lam  going  to  sing  pretty  soon, "  she  said;  "and,  mean- 
time, I  want  you  to  play  that  charming  Scottish  waltz  I  like  so 
much.     I  heard  Colonel  Evandyke  whistling  it  a  little  ^hile 
'ago." 

"  Where  is  Colonel  Evandyke  ?" 

"  Oh,  surely  1 — ^you  haven't  seen  him.    Look— standing  there 

with  papa  and  all  these  gentlemen.     You  can't  see  him  very 

well,  though." 

- — ~SyWlla  looked,  and  wiwa  taH,  dark,  lathw  distinguishcd- 

looking  man,  with  jetty  hair,  beard,  and  mustache.     She  could 


I     -'.  .' 


/    ■  i'    '  '    ■       ■  '      ■ 


py  fifteen  min- 

nds  from  below, 
ter  of  which  she 
i  the  grave,  and 

ook  ;  she  laid  it 
ened  unceremo- 

Gertie  is  going 

6IIow|d  Adeline 

eople,  standing, 
OSS  to  the  piano 


;  "and,  mean- 
h  waltz  I  like  so 
it  a  little  While 


—standing  there 
in't  see  him  very 


r^distinguisted- 
che.     She  could 


TffE  VlftcmrA  HEIRESS.  205 

only  see  his  fece  in  profile— what  the  mustache  and  beard  did 
not  cove5~but  that  was  enough  to  show  he  was  eminently  hand- 
some. 

She  turned  away,  send  sat  down  at  the  piano. 

"I  want  to  waltz,"  saM  Gertrude,  "and  I  can  waltz  in  better 
time  to  that  tune  than  anything  else.  I  expect  it's  a  favorite  of 
Colonel  Evandyke's,' too."  ^k 

Sybilla  sighed  as  she*  began  to  play. 

It  was  a  sweet,  mburnful  Scotch  melody  she  had  often 
played  for  her  grandfether  _  often  sung  for  her  husband, 
and  her  heart  was  with  them  both  as  her  fingers  floated  over 
the  keys. 

Gertrude  Plummer,  and  two  or  three  4ore  couples,  were 
waltzing  as  if  inspired,  and  people  began  to  look  at  the  player,^ 
and  wonder  who  the  slender,  black-robed  girl,  with  the  pale,' 
beautiful  lace  and  fair  hair,  might  be. 

"That  was  charming.     I  never  saw  you  waltz  so  well,"  said 

a  voice  close  beside  her  to  Gertrude. 

Sybilla's  hands  fell  from  the  keys.      She  barely  repressed  a 
cry. 

That  voice  I 

She  looked  around  wildly,  but  it  was  only  Colonel  Evandyke 
speaking  to  Miss  Plummer,  with  a  laughing  fece.     Only  Colo- ' 
nel  Evandyke,  and  for  one  moment  she  had  thought  it  a  voice 
hushed  forever  in  the  stormy  sea  ! 


„  ■_  —  -  .-      J        - _- 

She  laid  her  hand  on  her  throbbing  beat,  white  to  ghasUi- 
ness  I   ■ 


'.:: 


'1 


i. 


V.  I 


HI 


I  I 


3o6 


ri/£  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


"The  lady  is  feinting !"  said  the  same  voice,  and  then  every' 
thing  was  swimming  before  Sybilla  in  a  misL 
But  she  did  not  faint 

Gertrude  held  a  glass  of  ice-water  to  her  lips,  and  the  diizi- 
ness  passed  away. 

"  Dear  me  I  what  was  it?"  asked  Mrs.  Plummer, coming  up. 
"The  heat?' 

Sybilla  lifted  her  eyes,  and  met  the  searching  glance  of  a  pair 
—the  darkest,  the  brightest,  it  seemed,  she  had  eVer  seen— be- 
longing to  that  startling  Southern  officer. 

He  bowed. 

"Miss  Tresylian,  my  daughter's  governess.  Colonel  Evan- 
dyke,"  said  Mrs.  Plummer,  a  little  stiffly.  "Gertrude,  my  love, 
I  thought  you  were  going  to  sing?" 

Sybilla's  hands  were  on  the  keys  again,  and  she  was  trying  to 
sing  second  in  that  fly-away  duet ;  but  for  once  her  touch  was 
uncertain,  her  voice  fiiltering,  and  the  duet  was  a  melancholy 
fiiilure. 

Miss  Plummer  looked  amazed — daggers — at  the  governess, 
never  dreaming  that  the  stately  colonel  standing  calmly  near  was  I 
the  cause  of  it  all.     As  she  moved  off  in  displeasure,  and  Sybilla 
was  about  to  escape,  that  officer  came  coolly  up  and  cut  oft"  her 
retreat 


you.     I  know  you  are  the  original  of  the  portrait  you  have  kind- 1 
ly  permitted  me  to  retain,  and  the  granddaughter  of  my  la- 


-r '. 


'» 


'■?3t9^ 


7W2  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


107 


s,  and  the  dizzi- 


mer,  coming  up. 


mented  friend  and  general.      I  take  it  for  granted  we  are 
friends."  J 

He  held  out  his  hand  with  a  smile,  but  SybiUa  did  not  touch 
it.  She  was  staring  at  him  like  one  who  had  lost  her  senses. 
Was  she  going  mad  ?  / 

That  voice,  that  smile,  thpse^  dark,  magnetic  eyes !  Could 
<wo  men  on  earth  be  so  mutih  alike,  or  was  it  only  the  ghost  of 
Richard  Nagle!  ,^  r 

' '  Won't  you  shake  hands  with  me  ?"  said  he.  ' '  Have  I  fright- 
ened you,  or  what  is  it  ?" 

He  might  well  ask.  She  put  her  hand  to  her  head,  in  a 
lost,  bewildered  sort  of  way.  Oh  1  she  was  mad,  to  think  such 
things  I 

"Yes,"  she  said,  tremulously,  "you 'frightened  me.  You 
—you  look  so  much  like— like " 

She  broke  down,  and  with  a  sort  of  gushing,  hysterical  cry, 
ran  out  of  the  room. 

Half  a  dozen  wondering  eyes  looked  on  in  amazement,  too 
far  off  to  heari  but  near  enough  to  see,  Mrs.  Plummer  among 
them. 

"  What  does  it  mean  ?"  she  asked  him,  wonderingly. 

The  Southern  colonel  was  very  grave,  and  very,  very  pafe— 
all  saw  that 

"  I  knew  her  grandfather,  and  he  is  dead ;  J  spoke  of  him^ 


-■^~ — ■— :- ~ ----z,--:^ — ~ z \ '  ^     *  .  ***.**fjt. 

arid,  Tsupjxise,  too  abruptly-  perhaps  you  had  better  send  and 
see  a^  her." 


1 
•i 


i 


>N 

jt 

*, 

/.     \ 

j^dMC 

% 

'  i.T. 

...^-"-     fe 

r*              '■'* 

• 

\  .  . 

_^  ,.\  .».  .  fpti'-  ^/ 1 

.^  *-    «      »  J 

•i    ,t'LA» 

<e.i     '^ 

-.»    iS"     >d&>. 

\" 


/ 


3o8 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


"Her  grandfether!"  echoed  two  or  three  curious  voices. 
"Who  was  he?" 

"  General  George  Tresylian,  of  Virginia,  and  my  command- 
ing officer."  ,j, 

There  was  a  httle  volley  of  astonished  ejaculations  all  round. 

"General  Tresylian  her  grandfether  1"  cried  Mr.  Plummer, 
coming  up.  "  Impossible,  colonel.  She  has  often  heard  us 
speak  of  him,  and  never  told  us  he  was  any  relation." 

"Not  at  all  impossible,  nevertheless.  I  happen  to  be  cer- 
tain of  the  fact  And,  if  you  ask  the  young  lady  the  question, 
you  will  find  the  answer  yes.  Of  course,  her  fortune  has  been 
swept  away,  and  so  you  have  her  for  governess. " 

He  walked  off  as  he  spoke,  with  a  look  on  his  face  that  said 
the  matter  was  ended,  and  had  nothing  further  to  say  on  the 
subject  that  night 

But  it  did  not  end  there.  His  revelation  had  created  a  sen- 
sation not  easily  subdued,  and  the  guests  were  anxious  for  an- 
other^gliuice  at  the  pale  patrician  face  that  shone  among  them 
and  was  gone. 

Mrs.  Plummer  lay  awake  that  night  for  iiiUy  an  hour  after 
her  lord  was  asleep  and  snoring,  thinking  with  vexatioii  of  the 
discoveiy  she  had  made.  If  Mrs.  Plummer  had  not  bad  a 
marriageable  daughter,  she  would  have  ^been  deciidedly  proud  .| 
of  it,  but  having  a  maniageable  daught^,  i^d  the  dearest  ,de- 
ofherliwirtiseing  uotonri  XvandprtTallbft-ttt-law,  ifis 
was  thoroughly  vexed.      Miss  T^esyrlian  in  the  character  of 


■^ 


,.■•-<■ 


r  '. 


cunous  voices. 

I  my  command- 

tions  all  round. 
Mr.  Plummer, 
often  heard  us 
tion." 

ppen  to  be  cer- 
\y  the  question, 
rtune  has  been 

is  face  that  said 
r  to  say  on  the 

d  created  a  sen- 
mxious  for  aa- 
le  among  them 

1  an  hour  after 
vezatioii  of  the 
bad  not  had  a 
ledidedly  proud  >| 
the  dearest  ,de- 
s6ii-fh-raw,  sM 
le  character  of 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS, 


209 


governess,  wJis  all  that  could  be  desired  — Miss  Tresylian  in 
the  character  of  Gertrude's, rival,  was  not  desirable  at  all. 

"I'll  get  rid  of  her,"  thought  Mrs.  Plummer,  "or  the  colo- 
nel will  never  look  twice  at  Gertie.  I  thought,  from  the  firsV 
she  was  a  great  deal  too  good  looking. " 

Mrs.  Plummer  might  have  found  it  a  harder  matter  to  get  rid 
of  the  governess  than  at  first  appears,  for  xMr.  Plummer  "de- 
lighted to  honor"  the  granddaughter  of  so  distinguished  a  man 
as  General  Tresylian,  and  he  was  emphatically  master  in  his 
own  house.  But  the  fetles  stepped  in  and  declared  in  fevor 
of  his  spouse.  Miss  Tresylian  was  no  longer  eligible  as  a  gov- 
erness. J 

From  that  night  a  startling  and  unaccountable  change  passed 
over  her— her  health  and  spirits  foiled  all  at  once— she  seemed 
no  longer  the  same  being.  The  mechanical  power  of  teaching 
had  left  her  all  in  a  moment,  and  she  moved  about  like  a  being  . 
in  a  trance,  with  an  indescribable  look  of  vague  horrof  in  her 
eyes. 

She  lost  the  power  to  sleep^or  eat— in  a  week  she  was  gone  to 
a  shadow,  and  Mrs.  Plttmmer  lost  patience  with  her  altogether. 

"Whatw  the  matter  with  you,  Miss  Tresylian  ?"  she  cried^ 
impatiently.  "Are  you  sick,  or  losing  your  senses?  Since 
the  night  of  the  party,  you  have  been  like  one  beside  your- 
selfJ"         I 

Syfag^  jooked  at  her  with  a  Jong,  dreamy  shiver,  and  thgi  fcr 
away  into  vacancy  without  speaking.  ^  It  natuiaUy  provoked 
Mn.  Flummer. 


m 


II 


''If ) 
if 

■■••f 
J 


! 


/ 


ni 


f'i:':\ 


hj\ 


-■;*■■■'■ 


aio 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


'i  V- 


\   1 


"Are  you  aware,"  she  said,  sharply,  "that  you  haVe  not 
given  my  daughters  a  lesson  fit  to  l^e  called  a  lesson  for  a  week  ? 
Pray,  rouse  yourself,  Miss  Tresylian,  or  send  for  a  doctor.  This 
state  of  things,  you  must  be  aware,  will  not  do. " 

She  sailed  away  in  majestic  displeasure,  yet  wondering  and 
uneasy  at  the  unaccountable  change.  Her  fears  of  the  gover- 
ness as  a  rival  were  considerably  set  at  rest  by  this  time.  In 
the  first  place.  Miss  Tresylian  was  rapidly  losing  her  good  loo\s, 
and  fading  away  to  a  mere  skeleton ;  in  the  second  place,  Colo- 
nel  Evandyke  showed  little  or  no  interest  in  her.  He  had  asked 
for  her*  health  once  or  twice  in  his  calls  in  an  indifferent  i«^y, 
but  beyond  that  betrayed  no  solicitude  about  her.  If  the  gov- 
erness would  only  rouse  herself  from  the  abnormal  and  uncom- 
fortable state  into  which  she  had  fallen,  she  might  retain  her  sit- 
uation yet. 

The  beginning  of  the  second  week  brought  a  visitor  for  Sy- 
billa — Mrs.  Wayland. 

That  lady  started  back  at  sight  of  her,  as  if  she  had  seen  a 
ghost 

"For  Heaven's  sake  !  you  unfortunate  child,  what  have  you 
been  doing  to  yourself?  But  I  knew  all  along  how  it  would  be 
The  idea  oi  your  becoming  a  governess !  Why  not  take  a  dosk 
of  strychnine  at  once,  and  close  matters  by  less  lingering  suicide? 
You  shall  come  home  with  me  this  very  day,  back  to  Boston, 
whether  you  like  it  or  not     You  shall  not  stay  here  another 


i  '''' 

- 

....,._,    , . 

—  hOttff*—                                                                — — - — —    - 
Energetic  Mrs.  Wayland  was  as  good  as  her  word.     Sybilla 

,1 

J 

:  ■"^/^•■ 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


.visitor  for  Sy- 


she  had  seen  a 


311 

seemed  to  have  no  life  left  to  remonstrate  or  explain,  and  Mrs. 
Wayland,  ail  in  the  dark,  took  Mrs.  Plumraer  rather  sharply  to 
task.  ■         ' 

"I  don't  pretend  to  understand  Mira  Tresylian  or  her  ill- 
ness," retorted  Mrs.  Plummer,  With  some  asperity.  "Shemakes 
no  confidantes  in  this  house,  and  has  more  whims  than  any  gov- 
erness /ever  came  across..  She  has  been  treated  well,  madam ;; 
it  is  no  feult  of  ours.  She  has  not  been  like  thesame  persoil 
since  the  night  she  met  Colonel  Evandyke."      -^^^^ 

"Colonel  E^ndykel"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Wayland,  surprised. 
"  The  Southem'colonel  ?" 

*•  The  same,"  stiffly ;  "  I  see  you  know  him." 

"  My  ^ep-son  is  his  lawyer— he  has  been  at  our  house.    Pray 

what  has  Colonel  Evandyke  to  do  with  this  marked  change  in 

Miss  Tresylian?" 

"That  I  am  unable  to  inform  you,  madam,  unless  it  be  his 
knowledge  of  her  antecedents,  and  his  abrupt  mention  of  her 
grandfether." 

'' Knowledge  of  her  anUcedefftsf  repeated  Mrs.  Wayland, 
frowning  and  coloring.     "  How  does  Colonel  Evandyke  come ' 
to  know  anything  of  her?" 

Mrs.  PluBuner  got  up  impatiently. 

"I cannot  tell  you—i  canned  understand  Miss  Tresylian.  It 
you  wish  her  to  return  with  you,  I  will  pay  her  what  is  due,  and 
free  her  fi'om^hCT^ngi^mente 


word.     SybillaJ       The twoladies parted  the reverae of ^icably.    Sybilla,^^the 


'   i 


VS|^8i#<^fea^'|J^.^J,.VAj|ijli«'lW»-^,#;'    K    --       I    i"tM. 


1_         ■^S***    !■* 


2\t 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


last,  ttjed  fiiintly  to  remonstrate,  but  her  friend  'would  not  listen 
to  a  w6rd. 

"  You  shall  go !"  she  exclaimed,  peremptorily.  ••  You  have 
had  your  own  M^y  long  eno&gh,  and  much  good  it  has  done 
you.  I  go  by  the  „night-train,  Sybilla  Tresylian,  and  you  go 
with  me !" 

For  once,  Sybilla  was  passive  as  a  child.  She  bade  Mre.  Plum- 
mer  and  her  daughters  good-by,  and  followed  Mrs.  Wayland  to 
het  carriage. 

A  visitor  was  coming  up  the  steps  as  the  fix)nt  door  opened 

a  gentleman  wrap|)ed  in  a  cloak.  It  was  Colonel  Evandyke, 
and  it  was  the  only  time  he  and  Sybilla  had  met  since  the  party. 
He  lifted  his  hat,  and  held  out  his  hand  with  a  surprised  smile 
to  Mrs.  Wayland.  ? 

"  You  here,  madam  1  This  is  an  unlooked-fon  pleasure.  I 
was  with  Mr.  Wayland  just  now,  and  he  did  not  mention  it  Do 
you  remiiin  long  ?" 

•'About  three  hours.  I  came  to  see  how  Miss  Tresylian  got 
on,  and,  finding  her  at  death's  door,  am  carrying  her  oflF,  as  you 
see." 

Colonel  Evandyke  turned  the  light  of  his  handsome  black 
eyes  on  the  governess. 

A  sort  of  bluish  pallor  had  overspread  her  fiice,  and  her  eyes 
were  full  of  wild  affright 

"You  do  look  ill,"  he  said,  gravely;  "very  ill    Mrs.  Plum- 
jaey^gave  mete^nderstaadryoa  were  quite  weH  ^Hra< 


V 

f^p^ 

.  1 

-I 

Her 

came  ft 

She 

hand  t( 

were  ic 

*- 

fricrht 

serious,  I  hope,  Miss  Tresylian  ?' 


Waylan 

acted  I 

"Ye; 

a  sort  o 

Mrs. 

"Foi 

"Wh 

its  dead 

"Syb 

"Yes 

night  I  i 

Richard 

"  WA 

"Tha 

same  eyi 

same  vc 

saw  him 

dead  I" 

billawcE 


1-' 


ould  not  listen 

"You  have 
od  it  has  done 
n,  and  you  go 

de  Mre,  Plum- 
rs.  Wayland  to 

ioor  opened — 
lel  Evandyke, 
ince  the  parly, 
(urprised  smile 

•r  pleasure.  I 
lention  it   Do 

I  Tresylian  got 
her  off,  as  you 

indsome  black 

,  and  her  eyes 

Mrs.  Plum- 
It  is  nothi 


../ 


tURyiRGINlA  HglRESS. 


»t3 


Her  lips  parted  as  if  to  speak,  Mt  only  an  inaudible  murmur 
came  forth.  / 

She  made  a  hurria^  motion  forward,  and  he  held  out  his 
hand  to  help  her  into  the  carriage.     The  fingers  she  gave  him 
were  icy  cold,  and  her  eyes  nfevter  lost  the  stare  of  frozen  af- 
.  fright 

^     "For  goodness'  sake,  Sybilla,  what  ails  you?"  cried  Mrs."^ 
Wayland,  in  wonder  and  alarm.     "  How  you  looked  J  how  you 
acted  1    Are  you  going  mad  ?" 

"Yes  I"  answered  Sybilla,  with  sudden  vehemence— with 
a  sort  of  hysterical  cry.     "  Yes— that  is  it— I  am  going  mad  I" 

Mrs.  Wayland  turned  pile  with  horror. 

"For  God's  sake  I  Sybilla,  what  do  you  mean ?" 

"  What  I  say !  Either  I  am  mad,  or  the  grave  has  given  up 
its  dead  !"  she  answered,  wildly. 

"  Sybilla  r         . 

"Yes— yes— yes  I  I  know  it— I  feel  it  I  Ever  since  that 
night  I  have  felt  I  was  going  insane,  when  I  first  thought  he  was 
Richard  Nagle  risen  from  the  dead  I" 

"  Whoi^'  :■-■-.  ..z  . 

"That  man  I  Colonel  Evandyke  I    Don't  you  see  it?    The 
same  eyes,  the  same  hairi  the  same  features,  the  same^  smile,  the 
same  voice!— all,  aU  the  same !     Oh,  I  forget— you  n«ver 
saw  him.    Am  I  mad,  or  is  it  my  husband  risen  from  the  -% 
deadl"  •  .    . 

Wayland  was  never  so^^ttuch  scared  in  h»  life;  &  Sy-  — 


T 


billa  went  off  into  violent  hystefics  then  and  there.    But  thqy 


-[^f*'/'^*^ 


ru  M^\  j'W  *«?%»»«'  -v^i  -V . 


,\SJm.- 


^4 


f "  - 


314 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


I 


reached  the  hdtel,  where  her  steprson  awaited  her,  and  they 
,    managed  to  get  the  unfortunate  girl  up  to  a  chamber  and  into 
bed.     J  ~ 

.MrsrWayland,  applying  restoratives,  gave  Mr,  Wayland  a  re- 
sume of  the  alarming  conversation  in  the  carriage. 

"The  effect  of  this  hallucination  may  be  very  serious,"  Mr. 
Wayland  said.  "She  must  have  been  in  a  morbid  state  of 
mind  fpr  some  time.  Colonel  Evandyke  probably  bears  spme 
resemblance  to  Richard  Nagle,  on  whose  unhappy^'^te  she  is 
p#etually  brooding.  I  only  hope  brain  fever  may  not  be  the 
result"  ^    t. 

"  Will  you  mention  this  unfortunate  affair  to  the  colonel  ?" 
"Most  certainly  not,"  said  her  step-son,  in  grave  surprise. 
"I  could   not  do  so  without   revealing  Sybilla's  past  his- 
tory." '•  Y 

^  "He  may  know  that  already,"  said  Mr&'^t^llland,  thought- 
fully. "He  was  the  intimate  friend  of  her  grand&ther,  you 
yoiir- 

"  I  don't  think  so.     However  intimate  they  may  have  been, 
Mr.  Tresylian  would  never  reveal  the  story  of  his  child's  dis- 
grace to  an  utter  stranger.     Poor  girl  1,  she  is  atoning  bitterly 
'  for  tha^nad  marriage." 

Sybilla  escaped  brain  fever— tenderest  q»B  prevented  th&t^ 
.  and  in  a  week  she  was  able  to  travel.     Eve'iy  day  the  South- 
em    colonel   presenifd  himself  at   Mr.  Wayland's   office  to  j 


i  \1 


toquit*  for  IKfe  daughter  of  his  fnend.     On  one  oc^pn  Ens- 


the  colonel  ?" 


; 


"'  ■*  '  ''"".*^'"". 


riTE  mg/K/A  HEIRESS.  , 

by  no  mean,  in  .h.  habi,  of  searing  a.  „«„  aUangc. 
bvandyke  had  gone.         .  - 

ttow«£     Why?    You  stared  uncomforta'bly  •• 

' '  Di*  Nagle,  tlie  cliap  Aat  Sybilla  married  I" 

did*!;!:::^ ""  ^'"*'''^=''  -«^'-«'-^«  -.  ^ 

;;Sotl,ey  resemble  one  another?"  he  asked,  carelessly. 
Thg'miJh.betaltenfor.win-brotl.ers.     Barring  th'ewhis- 
N  and  the  ^lished  manner.,  and  the  ;ealth,  CoiL  E™". 

too?  SK-lf  '"*""°'"''  -^k'  '"«  Kkfnesscompl^e.     I  hope 
lost?  ""  *"  ''*®'  '^'  °'  *'■"  "'^'  ■"■»  f" 

lav""'^" r,x  "^' '"'  ^^-^'-W'^'^-'i «'  'o«  in  k  maze  all 
lay.     '^'^^"'■teness'afreak  of  nature,  Srwasi.  Richard  Nagle 

'ealth.  the  wh-skers.  and  the  polished  manne,^     Had  the„ 
72  '^^';\^  ■»!-''  »"  ™  he  not  lost  with  the  'r^t 

1  ,  K  '  °°'''"  ""'    ^"^l-  *ini!S  did  happen    \ 

m.t.meOM.>fteneri»*o«.^Al,h.™^Mfr^Mv^|;=. 
"  «« .mpo,.ibIe.    RichaM  Naglc  was  drowned.  „f.  Uugh, 


\> 


;  vsi 


I, 


.-I 


1 1 1 11 


f 


^«X.     *.fe%^    ^    -^  ^^j-.^^'^j^  i^.^l:s.^m 


^i 


ii6 


.THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


'% 


•^m^^ 


and  the  likeness  was  one  of  those  coincidences  that  startle  peo- 
ple every  day.     The  age  of  miracles  was  past — Colonel  E 
dyke  had  never  in  his  life  heard  the  rtame  of  Richard  Nagl 

Mr.  Wayland  dfove  the  matter  from  his  mindL  ^n|^^  very 
busy  all  day.  But  in  the  evening,  weiiding  hi&m^^o  his 
boarding-house,  he  called  at  the  St  Nicholas  and  iniquired  f6r 
Colonel  Evandyke.  He  had  made  up  his  mind,  by  a  few  judicious 
inquineis,  to  discover  whether  he  had  ever  heard  of  the  New  En- 
gland farmer  lost  in  the  Golden  Star. 

3ut  the  inquiries  were  destined  not  to  be  made.  Colonel  Ev- 
andyke had  left  New  York,  the  waiter  said,  aijd  told  him  (the 
waiter)  to  Wji^  M"^-  Wayland  so  if  he  called.  He  had  n6t 
said  where TSe  was  going,  or  when  he  would  be  back. '       '   . 

"It  matters  very  little,"  thought  George  Wayland,  pursuing 
his  homeward  way ;  "  he  would  know  nothing,,  of  course.  This 
resemblance  is  one  pf  nature's  freaks — nothing  more.  That  poor 
girl,  though !  In  tbe  present  state  of  her  nervous  system,  Heaven 
only  knows  what  tfie  consequences  may  be."  I'll  run  down  to 
B<^ton,  in  a  we^k  x>r  twq,  and  see  how/ she  gets  on." 


4# 


rf^« 


#"^ 


V 


■m 


that  startle  peo- 
-Colonel  Ei 
chard  NaglC 

1(1  ^^^^^^^y 

nd  inquired  fdr 
y  a  few  judicious 
of  the  New  Eri- 

B.  Colonel  Ev- 
d  told  him  (the 
I.  He  had  n6t 
back. '  *  , 
yland,  pursuing 
of  course. .  This 
lore.  That  poor 
systeni,  Heaven 
'11  run  down  to 


on. 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS, 


ai7 


.u, 


U-.... 


CHAPTER   XX. 

COIONEL  KVANDYKK  MAKES  A  REVE^TION. 


^ 


,<>■* 


Three  weeks  passed  before  Geoi^e  Wayland  found  time  to- 

V  that  "run  do^y^  to  Boston."    Business  flowed  in  upon  the 

bung  lawyer;  but  one  day,  toward  the  close  of  March,  he  gave 

business  the  slip,  and  fled  on  the  wings  of  steam  to  the  nhub 

|f  the  universe."  ^        , 

"How  is  SybiHa?"  was  his  first  question.  b 

Sybilla  stood  on  the  threshold  to  answer  for  heiself-a  wan, 
>lIow-eyed  shadow.     Out  of  the  lovely  eyes  the  light  had  died  ^ 
out  of  the  &ir  hair  the  tinsel  luster  had  &ded— out  of  the 
ireet,  beautiful  lips,  the  rosy  glow  had  gone.     Her  dress  hung 
ose  around  her  wasted  form.     The  hand  she  gave  him  was  al- 
ost  transparent  in  its  thinness.     The  sii^le  that  came  and 
ent  Ml  welcome  was  cold  as  moohliglii  on  snow. 
"What  can  I  dowiUi  her  ?»  ask^Mra  Wayland,  in  despair.  * 
I  see  her  dying  by  inches  before  my  eyes,  and  cannot  help 
>r.    She  absolutely  refuses  to  see  a  physician-they  cahnot 
mister  to  a  mind  diseased,  she  says-they  casL  do  hi^r  nn 


oa.   SBeneiaer  eats  nor  sleeps,  andlamhalf  distracted  look- 
at  her.    That  unfortunate  liaUucination  about  Colonel  Ev, 


**H<'-.'! 


feS., 


w',      ■''• 


■111! 


..  \i 


if 
1 1 


'.-ii 


'% 


fmmf<mi*iwm 


^. 


Jl. 


wWiW 


3l8 


TJIE  VIRGINIA,  HEIRES^. 


andyke  is  stronger  than  ever,  and  takes  firmer  hold  of  her  mind  | 
eveiy  time  she  sees  him." 

"Every  time  she  sees  him — what  do  you  mean?  Is  Evan- 
dyke  in  Boston  ?" 

"Of  course.  Did  you  not  know  it?  He  has  been  here  twol 
or  three  times,  and  we  have  met  Him  at  parties  and  the  theater.] 
He  seems  to  fascinate  Sybilla ;  she  sitS'^zing  at  him  breath-i 
lessly,  like  one  in  a  trance.  People  see  it,  and  wonder,  and! 
make  remarks.  I  would  think  she  was  hopelessly  in  love  withj 
him,  if  I  did  not  know  the  unlucky  resemblance  to  hei  husband 
was  the  cause  of  if  all. " 

"And  Evandyke — how  does  he  take  it?" 

"H^  does  not  appear  to  notice;  in  fiict,  beyond  'how  do 
you  do?' he  rarely  addresses  her  at  all.  His  indifference  pro-l 
vokes  me.  I  "wish  hTwOiilcl  ilall  in  love  with  her  and  marry  hej 
— then  she  might  forget  the  dead  man  in  his  living  image." 

Mr.  Waylaiijd  rose  abruptly,  ahd  walked  to  the  window ;  ther^ 
was  a  brieflilence, 

"She  wants  constant  change  and  cheerful  society,"  he  said 
at  laatt,  turning  around;    "she  is  too  much  alone,  and  ha 
grown  morbid.     This  state  of  mind  may  end  in  melancholj 
osadnessj  if  not  averted.     I  will  remain*,  at  home  for  the  nei 
fortnight,  and  do  my  best  to  amuse  her." 

Mr.  Wayland  was  as  good  as  his  word.     For  the  next  t\ 

weeks  he  gave  himself  up  to  cheering  that  poor,  melancholl 

-girt,  ardevotedlf  as  if  he  had  been  her  accepted  k>ver/Pop«  colonel  "1 

lar  rumor  set  him  down  for  that,  b^ond  possibility  of  doublaie  Iboking 


a;;? 


ik 


■MMhi^^'i^'<i 


7 HE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS.  aij 

hold  Of  her  mindlwas  he  not  constantly  with  her-at  the  theater,  at  concerts  at 
Parties,  nding,  walking,  driving?      He  was  her  shadow  and 
:ould  anything  warrant  such  attention  but  prospective  matri- 

mony  ? 

Sybilla  seemed  to  have  changed  her  nature-she  was  docile 
mough  now-she  had  done  with  objecting  and  willfulrigs,  it 
leemed,  forever.  ■ 

Aniong  the  many  who  had  heard  and  believed  in  Mr.  Way- 
and's  engagement  and  speedy  marriage,  was  Colonel  Evandyke 
\t  saw  them  repeatedly  together,  when  they  did  not  see  him 
tnd  watched  them  with  grave  eyes.     His  visits  to  the  Wayland 

,  beyond  'how  df '""^  ^"^'^  '"^  h,  presented  himself  one  morning  and 

.   ^.«.  inquired  for  Mrs.  Wayland. 

i  indiflference  pro-F 


mean?    Is  Evan 

has  been  here  two 
s  and  the  theater, 
Qg  at  him  breath 
and  wonder,  and 
lessly  in  love  with 
ice  to  hej  husband 


"Mrs.  Wayland  was  out,"-  the  servant  said;  Mr.  Wayland 
.0,  when  he  asked  next  for  ^im.     There  was  no  one  at  home 
lut  Miss  Tresylian.  ^ 

Colonel  Evandyke  paused  for  a  moment,  his  eyes  fixed  on 
society,"  he  saidf^  ^°°^'  ^^^  ^rows  knit     Suddenly  and  abruptly  he  lifted  his 


her  and  many  he 
iving  image." 
the  window;  then 


h  alone,  and  ha 
nd  in  melanchol 
lome  for  the  nei 

For  the  next  tw 


mbility  of  dottbl 


"Tell  Miss 


ead,  like  one  who  has  come  to  a  determination, 
resylian  I  wish  to  see  her. " 

The  servant  ushered  him  into  the  dra'wing-room,  and  took 
is  card  up  staii;s  to  the  young  lady. 

She  ^me  down  at  once,  all  white  and  trembling,  as  she  in- 
poor,  melanchol  iriably  was,  even  at  the  sound  of  that  man's  name. 

''^^^'    P^lcSMd  E^mf  ke  i?^^^ she  en ter«d;  strangd^palTand" 
^e  Iboking. 


'"A 


■\l 


'! 


nil 


A  il      it\     AaS- 


220 


TffE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


"kneel 
sun  ever 


No  iiiile  of  greeting  met  her,  no  polite  conventionality — he 
looked  cold,  and  hard,  and  unsmiling  as  stone. 

"I  would  not  have  disturbed  you,  Miss  Tresylian,"  he  be- 
gan, abruptly,  and  with  a  metallic  ring  in  his  voice,  ' '  if  Mrs. 
or  Mr.  Wayland  had  been  at  home.  However,  as  what  I  have 
to  say  relates  most  to  you,  perhaps  it  is  best,  after  all,^id  to 
yon.  Pardon  a  seemingly  very  impertinent  qufttipn-JNMe  you 
not  about  to  be  married?"  ^^  v-*:.«'% 

She  sat  looking  at  him,  her  eyes  dilating,  her  lips  apart,  won 
der,  terror,  recognition  in  her  blanched  fece.  He  arose,  and 
Stood  sternly  before  her, 

"I  see  you  know  me.  Seven  years  have  changed  me,  butl>'  ^or  you 
not  past  recognition.  I  saw  you  knew  me  from  the  first  yes,P^^s  a  div( 
Miss  Tresylian,  I  am  Richard  Nagle  !" 

She  did  not  fiiint,  she  did  not  scream — she  sat  looking  at  hi 
as  if  turned  to  stone.  ' 

"lam  Richard  Nagle,"  he  went  on,  pitilessly,  unmoved  b; 
that  wild  look.     "The  sea  spared  me  when  it  swallowed  m 
comrades.     Fortune  smiled  on  me  in  a  foreign  land — ^&me  h: 
been  mine  in  this.     I  am  Richard  Nagle,  the  man  you  ma 
ried,  whose  life  you  so  nearly  ruined,  and  that  I  am  alive  ani 
speaking  to  you  now,  no  thanks  are  due  to  you." 

She  slid  from  her  chair  on  her  knees,  and  held  up  her  clas; 
hands. 

"  Pardon— pardon,"  the  white  lips  tried  to  say,  but  no  wor§^  found,  1 
would  comei  ..^- ..  . 

"Rise«  madam,"  he  said,  with  cold  sternness,  laisiB;  herf  <^">uiff/' 


me.     Tl 
othing, 

ion — ^ar< 
Still  n( 
Had  I 

ingle  w< 

"rozen  I 
"I  asl 

'age,"pu 


iage  will 

ity  this  o 

leves  my  c 

he  world 

at  world 

oomed  tc 

en;  but 

ethod  of 

any  and 

eforehand 

ayland. 


iBff  hei 


r      •  * 


'~:'f^^^'■"l 


jnventionality — he 


le. 


Tresylian,"  he  be- 
is  voice,  ' '  if  Mrs. 
'er,  as  what  I  have 
t,  after  all,<«aid  to 
^ufttipn-JNNB  you 

er  lips  apart,  Von- 
i.     He  arose,  and 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS.  „, 

k.eelnottome.     You  have  been  one  of  the  worst  wives  the 

un  ever  shone  on,  but  kneel  and  ^k  pardon  of  God,  not  of 

Ime      The  past  is  past-I  am  your  equal  at  last-I  owe  you 

othing,  and  ask  nothing.     Allow  n,e  to  repeat  my  fi^t  ques- 

,on-are  you  going  to  be  married  to  Geoige  Wayland?" 

Still  no  reply. 

Had  her  life  depended  on  it.  she  could  not  have  uuered  a 
™gle  word  1  Every  puke  of  her  hear,  seemed  stilled  and 
frozen  I 

"I  ask,  through  no  wish  to  interfere.'or  prevent  the  mar- 
•age.    pursued  Richard  Nagle,  in  the  same  hard  tone,  "mere- 
changed  me,  butly  for  your  sake.     Supposing  me  dead,  of  course  there  never 
,m  the  first.    Yes,ivas  a  divorce.     Unfortunately  I  am  not  dead,  and  your  mar 
^.age  will  not  be  legal  until  that  divorce  is  obtained.     It  is  a 
sat  lookingat  hinf  >ty  this  obstacle  stands  in  the  way  of  your  happiness  but  it  re 

.  Jr  "^;r'""  '° ''"  '°"  '  '^-'^  ^°"  ^°  '''  -  >^-  please, 
ssly,  unmoved  bjrhe  world  knowame  as  Evandyke;  do  not  fear  I  will  ever  let 

I  it  swallowed  m^at  world  know  you  once  feU  so  low  as  to  marry  me     I  seem 

-n  land-feme  haJoomed  to  be  a  bar  and  stumbling-block  in  your  way  now  as 

he  man  you  mar  hen;  but  Mr.  Wayland  will  understand  the  easiest  and  briefest 

It  I  am  alive  ani  method  of  obtaining  the  divorce.     Then  you  will  be  free  to 

uny  and  be  happy.     Pennit  me  to  offer  my  congratulations 
Jldupherclaspe   'f^-^^    Any  woma;i  might  be  happy  as  the  wife  of  Geome 

Wayland.     Should  he  wish  to  communicate  with  me,  I  am  To 
say,  but  nowor|e  found,  for  the  jiext  week,  at  the.  Revere.     Pardon  me  for 


\'i 


ness,  nisi 


iiBff  hei 


^._^  J. '  —  •"*-  "v-vcjc.     jraraon  me  tor 

"^^^agi^eeabte  inteiyiew,  afid  permit  me  to  wish  yotT^oodT 
her  wmmft"  ^"^ 


■2 


5 


I 


FTI 


23a 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


w 


ff 


He  was  gone ! 

She  had  not  uttered  a  word — the  menial  paralysis  held  her 
speechless  I 

Not  dead — her  living  husband,  Richard  Nagle  I  She  realized 
it  now  for  the  first  time.  His  blood  was  not  on  her  head — the 
husband  she  loved  with  her  whole  heart,  lived  !  With  a  gasp- 
ing cry  she  fell  forward,  all  life  and  feeling  gone  ! 

Half  an  hour  after,  when  Mrs,  Wayland  and  her  step-son  en- 
tered the  drawii^g-room,  they  made  the  alarming  discovery  that 
Miss  Tresylian  was  lying  on  the  carpet  in  a  dead  feint.    In  a  mo 
ment  all  was  confusion,  the  bell  was  rung  violently,  and  the  ser 
vants  questioned. 

The  servants  knew  nothing  about  the  matter.     Miss  Tresyl 
ian  had  come  down  to  see  the  gentleman,  as  he  wished,  and 
that  was  the  last  they  knew  of  her.     The  gentleman  had  left  half 
an  hour  before,  and  Miss  Tresylian  had  not  come  out  of  the 
drawing-room.  .  *. 

"What  gentleman?"  asked  Mrs.  Wayland. 

"Mr.  Evandyke,  ma'am.  He  asked  for  you  and  Mr.  Way- 
land,  and  then  for  Miss  Tresylian.  He  only  stai^  ibont  fifteen 
mmutes."  .      ^  / 

The  servants  were  dispatched.    Sybilla  came  out  of  her  swoon 
after  a  long  time.     The  great  deep  eyes  fixed  themselves  on  he 
friend's  fece. 

"  He  lives  1"  she  whispered,  almost  inaudibly,  "he  lives  !  he 
ilves^L  X)h,  thank  Ged^tfbaak-God^l"^  — 


"  W^ /•  cried  Mrs.  Wayland,  "for  pity's  sake  1" 


7* 

'4 


'■Ax. 


&i^tei,i£«ttMj:«.^M&U'L 


i.\  -i^  ^'     -Sg*-?  ^^   ^f*"--;  -w  T^  j,j,Y 


paralysis  held  her 

:le  1  She  realized 
on  her  head — the 
d  !  With  a  gasp 
le! 

1  her  step-son  en 
ing  discovery  that^ 
d  faint.    In  a  mo 
;ntly,  and  the  ser- 
in    Miss  Tresyl 
s  he  wished,  and^ 
man  had  left  hal 
come  out  of  the 


u  and  Mr.  Way- 

taicj  abont  fifteen 


out  of  her  swooni 

r 

h(^n)iSfilves  on  her 
y," he  lives!  he 


'JHJi  V-IRGMIA  HEIRESS. 


223 


"  My  husband  1"  Sybilla  exclaimed.  '•  I  knew  it^I  felt  it  I 
Oh,  Mrs.  Wayland,  Colonel  Evandyke  is  my  husband,  Richard 
^agle  I" 


% 


".] 


m 


% 

I 


ke  I"^  . 

'4 


\    _^_    V     ,^    _ 


^  *^^J.^1lekAi■Ji*4^ 


.fill 


324 


THJS  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


'T  ~:*SV.  ■ 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


HARD  AS  IRON. 


Colonel  Evaiidyke — Richard  Nagle— whichever  you  like,  sa 
at  the  window  ©f  his  hotel,  enjoying  the  morning  sunshine  anc 
afiagrant  cigar.  H®  s^t  looking  thoughtftrily  at  the  ceaselesi 
crowd  below  him,  and  waiting  for  a  visitor  he  felt  sure  wouh 
soon  come 

The  inward  prescience  did  not  deceive  him;  a  little  befon 
eleven  a  servant  entered  and  announced  Mr.  Wayland. 

"Show  him  up,"  said  Colonel  Evandyke. 

Mr.  Wayland  entered.    Colonel  Evandyke  took  out  his  cigar, 
/  and  rose  up  to  receive  him 

/        "Good-morning,  Wayland  !"  he^Said,  smiling;  "I 'felt  sur 
you  would  come 

yr.  Wayland  took  his  extended  hand,  and  held  it  while  h 
looked  searchingly  in  his  eyes. 

"/j  it  true  ?"  he  ffemanded  ;  "  I  can't  believe  it ;  I  can't  re 
alize  it ;  it's  too  romantic  altogether 

"My  little  masquerade,  do  you  mean  ?   ^t  is  true  as  preacli 


"And 
"Veril 
truth  is  si 
Nagle." 

"Ther 

dropped ) 

"Evan 

tain  that  ( 

Besides,  tl 

no  wish  tc 

There  v 

loss.     Eva 

"lam 

Ht?" 

George 

*\toi  m, 

"No? 

Miss  Tresy 

He  spok 

itranger,  lij 

"No,"r< 

10  fault  oi 

efused  me 

Colonel  '. 

"Praygi 


ing— truer ^than  a  great  deal  of  preaching.     I  have  been  sailin 
uoder  felse  colors  for  the  last  four  years.     Take  a  seat." 


0  thelatte'i 
eing  drowi 


*'w.      ':• 


,<!fe%to|^{^;.^B^'| 


•:^^S^u-^ih'(i^ 


m\      i-'^iy'r'^' 


^^  ~^  «-■*— -^fcft— .*-i^«ili^»',«r^iii*'" 


7ff£  VIRGINtA  HEIRESS. 


aa5 


7 

"And  you  are  indeed  Richard  Nagle?" 
"Verily  and  indeed  I    Astonishing,  isn't  it ?    But  you  know 
truth  is  stranger,  etc.  ?    I  am,  or  was  seven  years  ago,  Richard 

Nagle." 

"Then  what  am  I  to  call  you.  pray,  now  that  you  have 
dropped  your  mask  ?" 

V 

"Evandyke,  'an' thou  lovest  me.'  I  have  promised  tore- 
tain  that  cognomen,  and  it  is  prettier  than  Nagle,  on  the  whole. 
Besides,  the  change  would  involve  endless  inquiry,  which  I  have 
no  wish  to  excite."  , 

There  was  a  brief  pause.     Mr.  Wayland  looked  rather  at  a 
loss.     Evandyke  laid  his  hand  kindly  on  his  shoulder. 
"I  am  sorry,  for  your  sake,  Wayland,  but  how  could  I  help 

lit?"  ^ 

George  Wayland  colored. 
*\tox  my  sake  ?    I  do  not  understand  I" 
"  No  ?    That  is  odd  !    Are  you  not  about  to  be  married  to 
^liss  Tresylian  ?" 

He  spoke  h^r  name  as  coolly  as  if  she  had  been  an  utter 
itranger,  lighting  another  cigar, 
i  held  it  while  h|    "No,"replied  the  lawyer,  emphatically,  "I  am  not-through 
10  fault  of  mine,  though-Miss  Tresylian-nay,  Mrs.  Kagic, 
efused  me  twice  I"  '   \ 

Colonel  Evandyke  made  an  impatient  motion  of  his  hand. 
"  ^'Yg^^^'i^^  ^''""^^  ^'^'^  Jlj^gt^  has  stnUny  right 


lever  you  like,  sa 
ling  sunshine  anc 
y  ^i  the  ceaseles 
le  felt  sure  woul 

n;  a  little  befon 
Vayland. 

ook  out  his  cigarj 

ing;  "I  felt  su 


!ve  it ;  I  can't  re 


is  true  as  preach 
have  been  sailin 


:e  a  seat. 


It 


0  thelattS,  is  all  owing  to  that  unfortunate  mistake  about  my 
)eing  drowned.     A  divorce  would  have  set  all  right  long  ago.? 


^^^    *,t^   *i^ . 


-.<•    j*«t    I,?'-    A.  ••.'•H>J*M* 


f       '1, 


=Tff- 


il 


-i  ■»■  :i  '  Mi 


226 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRES'5. 


"  I  believe  you  are  mistaken.     I  believe  Sybilla  never  woulc 
have  consented  to  any  step  of  the  kind.     No'one  could  possiblj 
regret  the  past  more  than  she  did.     The  shock  of  your  death 
aifected  her  so,  that  for  a  time  her  life,  her  reason  was  despaired 
of.     She  realized,  from  the  moment  you  had  left  her,  the  injus 
tice  she  had  done  you,  and  the  silent  heroism  with  which  yoii 
bore  it.    Believing  herself  free,  she  yet  refused  numbers  of  highit 
eligible  offers— she  had  determined  to  remain  true  to  your  memj 
ory  until  death,  as  some  slight  atonement.     That  she  does  n( 
still  bear  your  name  is  no  fault  of  hers— she  assumed  her  maideii 
appellation  to  please  her  grandfather.     Believe  me,  no  truer  oj 
more  feithful  wife  ever  lived  than  Sybilla  will  be  to  you  now.*' 

Evandyke  gazed  at  him  with  piercing  eyes, 

"Mr.  Wayland,"hesaid,  "you  told  me  Miss  Tresylian  re 
fused  you  twice.     Is  it  impertinent  to  ask  if  you  /<we  her  ?" 

Again  the  blood  mounted  to  George  Wayland's  face. 

"  I  do  not  know, "  he  said,  after  a  pause,  "  that  you  have  anj 
right  to  ask  that  question ;  but  I  will  answer  it     I  did  love  he 
as  I  think  I  shall  never  love  any  one  again. " 

"Then  ho^is  it  you  are  so  ready  to  give  her  up?" 

"  Give  her  up  1    What  possible  claim  can  I  have  on  her- 
married  woman  ?" 

"You  forget  the  law  of  divorce.     I  resign  most  readily  i| 
your  favor,"- 

George  Wayland's  brows  contracted  sternly. 

LJcnoi^Colonel  £vandyjee,  what  msumer  <rf^  ms 


^ou  take  me  for ;  but,  believe  me,  a  thousand  divorces  woul 


V 


,^%1^*,i   -twi. 


ybilla  never  wou 
one  could  possibi 
ock  of  your  deatl 
ison  was  despairei 
left  her,  the  inju 
11  with  which  yoi 
numbers  of  highl; 
true  to  your  mem 
That  she  does  n 
iumed  her  maidei 
e  me,  no  truer  oi 
je  to  you  now, 


rj/£  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


»»7 


[iss  Tresylian  n 
3U  /ove  her  ?" 
tid's  face. 
:hat  you  have  anj 
I     I  did  love  h( 

erup?" 

I  have  on  her- 

i  most  readily  ij 


manner  of  ms 

I  divorces  woul 


'^y  through  life  a„^  T    T  '^''^  ™"  «°  h"  °™ 

tL  r  k  '"^'  ""'  ""'  8°  "i-^-     Yo„  don't  know  half  .he 

t»an  tor  three  days,  then  we  were  picked  no     Th.  k- 
'"■Ki  to  Brazil,  as  it  chanced   .h»      rT    '^'"''"P'^ 
fiose  life  I  save^      „■  T  ^     "  """""  P'^"*  "f  *=  »» 

Lined  fr*^  ^^  ^/^  "^  "-'*^-    ^^  *=''  -o-  I 
K  illiterate    1^^  °"""°  ""■"'  ^°"  ^>  »  ■"»  "Ot 

f-«.>l.     Then,  w.th  wealth  and  education,  came  a  longing  to 

C^tn;",'*'"'-'™^*"-     The  Soud>  was  m,    . 

n,e  from  homAhas  never  left  me.     I  ..y  ,o  forgive 


tl 


li 


II 


■if 

-.n 


Vtf^  Vj  ^'t^Wv.'^Wt  -^, 


p,^..  < 


EVSi 


\. 

'           THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS.                 -  ' 

•■>S^''VT^ 


aaS 

her— I  hope  I  have  done  so — buyo  take  her  back,  to  t/ust  hej 
once  more — no,  Wayland,  I  nfeyer  will  1" 

His  eyes  flashed,  and  his  hand  involuRtajWy  clenched.    Onl 
for  a  moment ;  then  he  was  calm  agaip^  ,; 

"You  can  tell  her  what  you  6lease-^l  I  have  said  or  no^ 


just  as  you  like.     Only,  if  she  intertamis  any  idea  that  I  wil   Evan^ke, 


"Heii 

hard  I" 
Yes,  it 

her  punisi 
Next  da 


take  her  back — that  I  will  put  my  neck  under  her  heel  again 
undeceive  her.  *  I  wish  her  well ;  but  I  care  not  if  I  never  se 

her  more  I"  Xj 

George  Waylartd  took  his  hat,  without  a  word,  and  tumcj^  t 
go.     On  the  threshold  he^^sed. 

' '  I  have  no  more  to  urgS, "'  he  said.  "  You  are  a  brave  jna 
but  you  are  not  generous.  She  has  sinned,  but  she  has  liki 
wise  suffered  and  repented.  Believe  me,  s^e  will  not  press  h 
claims  upon  one  so  merciless  and  unforgiving." 

He  left  the  house,  and  walked  slowly  homeward.     When 
reached  the  house  he  found  Sybilla  awaiting  him  in  the  drawin 

ft 

room.     She  was  pacing  up  and  down,  a  fever-fire  in  her  ?yes, 
fever-flush  on  her  cheeks.     She  paused  as  she  saw  him,  and 
his  clouded  face  she  read  her  doom. 


He  will  not  forgive  1"  she  said,  clasping  her  hands  in  d 


pair. 


Hope  nothing  from  him,"  said  Mr.  Wayland,  kindly; 


nd  it  was 
He  gave 
espairing 
"Shewi 
lope  goes 
But  she ( 
tter  and  s 
These  w 
pjiat  might 
He  was  £ 
ought  tha 
be  had  desi 
illyeamed, 
e  desolate 
at  he~lived 
So,  whilej 
iunder, "  th( 


neither  forgives  nor  forgets.     I  had  hoped  to  bring  you  bet   n  summer 


news,  but  he  is  harder  than  iron. " 
=^.^hesank4atoa.seatyhfirJace  drppt 


fell  thick  and  fast 


rength  to  S 


.'V  JStSV,^ '    '■>' -  * -■ '  ■"•  ftS";"!;--.' |Si-1<'-*5^3«4».-; ■  "rX'** >^'»* Ki'v'  '■  '•■■ 


■■•»5^ 


i.  't?>rr; 


back,  to  tmst  he] 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


\    , 


M9 


f  clenched.    Onljj 

have  said  or  nc 
ny  idea  that  I  wid 
r  her  heel  again- 
not  if  I  never  se 

>rd,  aiid  tumei^  tj 

u  are  a  brave  jnar 


Yes.  it  was  hard-loving  him  as  she  loved  him  now.     Surely 
|her  punishment  was  greater  than  her  sin. 
Next  day  brought  Mr.  Wayland  a  note.     It  was  from  Colonel 
•^^t^ke.  saying  ferewell ;  he  had  left  Boston  for  the  South 
ind  It  was  uncertain  when  he  would  return. 
Jle  gave  the  nbte  to  Sybilla,  who  read  it  through  a  lain  of 
lespairing  tears.         "      . 

t.  she  h.u.i.ra:::ix  ^"^-^'-^-^'--^-'cand,,. 

wiU  not  pre.  h|  Thee  „  a.  such  enigmas,  >„„  know,  never  doing 

M  m,ght  be  expected  ;  but  yoa  need  hardly  be  suT,ri,ed 
He  was  alive-his  blood  lay  not  on  her  head-thai  was  the 
io„ght.b.tb„oy«lherup.     He  was  lost  to  her  forever ;  well 
be  had  de«rv«l  tha^  and  could  bear  it-i,  was  her  punishmen't 
.nream«l.     She  had  lost  him,  and  henceforth  her  life  n,ust 
e  desolate;  bu,  she  could  endure  her  pain,  and  thank  God' 
lat  he  lived. 

So  whiW  "they  stood  apart  like  rocks  that  have  been  L. 

u  ■         -u  i      "'         'f^'"*  '"°°""'  '™"«'  "<'  ««■"  by,  and  the  Dleas 
>  bnng  you  be.  „  sun.n,er  erne  once  nrore     I.  brought  Lw  hl'a^ 

ra.  wayiaad,  aTBtberfonnidaWe  ^p.       — ~~ 


eward.     When 
im  in  the  drawin 
r-fire  in  her  <?yes, 
e  saw  him,  and 


her  hands  in  di 
land,  kindly;  " 


■^'  I 


I 


I 


'!!( 

-|i( 


i!ii;?*fii;3!A^VN  ^  i^.  V :  -y:?. 


■v  •.■;.■-?,-;!»; 


-:T  ■t;*';"*''A^'"'.-s  '^^.^■ 


1^- 


ajo 


■i 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


CHAPTER  XXII.  , 

SATING  OOOD-BY. 

-    Late  in  the  aflemoon  of  a  rainy  June  day,  Sybilla  wended  hei 
way  slowly  along  the  sloppy  pavements  and  muddy  streets.! 
Poising  an  umbrella  in  one  ungloved  hand,  and  daintily  hold- 
ing up  her  skirts  with  the  other,  she  tripped  down  BeacOnstreei 
There  was  a  fltish  in  her  cheek,  a  sparkle  in  her  eye,  an  els 
ticity  in  her  step  alL'unusual,  and  that  told  of  returning  mem 
and  bodily  health.    |  She  was  learning  resignation — learning, 
we  all  must  learn,  to  bear  the  inevitable     She  was  guiltless  o| 
the  death  of  the  husband  she  loved.     Ah  1  that  was  the  blessi 
thought  that  never  left  her  night  oiuday.     Oceans  might  divi( 
them — they  might  pever  meet  this  side  of  eternity — but  he  wi 
hers  still — she  was  his  wife,  and  nothing  but  death  could  8ev( 
that  holy  tie  1  " 

In  the  years' to  come  he  might  learn  to  forgive  her,  and  whi 
time  rolled  away,  and  eternity  opened,  they  might  be  reunit( 
once  more. 

So  Sybilla  roused  herself  from  sinful  sorrow  and  repininj 
and  &ced  her  life  with  new  courage.     Calm  followed — alm( 
=^eac&-Heuid  just  at  this  moment  ^e^is^^appyiu  she  riagfs^i 


Mrs.  \ 

!  and  hat, 

relief,  int 

slie  was  r 

"Whe 

[rain?"' 

"Yes,' 
"Onw 
"Busin 
|you;  but 

She  wen 

[feet,  and  t' 

'^Whys 

|have  you  b 

"Someti 

She  took 

|to  an  advej 

5ovemess  p 

object  to  trj 

"Well,", 

iawning  up 

"Everyth 

usie,  and 

on." 

"You  I 

otgoj:^ 


silver  door-bell  of  the  Wayland  mansion. 


"Yes,  I  V 


"W 


1HB  VISGItflA  HEKESS.  '      ,,, 

ad  ha.,  SybUla  entoed  and  flung  herself,  wich  a  long  breath  of 

i:ri:rn~-  «"-""-^— --^-o: 

^JWhere  have;,ou  b«.. r  Ae  «k«!,  languid,,,.. out  in  .he 

"Yes. "answered  Sybilh,  .'o„t  6n  business.- 
"  On  wha.  r  opening  her  ej^es. 

|you ,  bu.  first  you  must  promise  not  to  be  angn,  » 

feet,  and  twmed  her  arms  coadngly  about  her  waist. 

"Whyshonld  I  beango.rasked  Mrs.  Wayland;    .-what 
nave  you  been  doing?", 

"Something  veo- chicking  1    Lookherel"  s 

She  took  out  of  her  pocket  a  paper,  a  week  old.  ajipoint*. 
^  an  adver.,«ment     It  was  from  a  clergyman  who  wald  a 

,^™^^roa<«n.inmusioandKrenoh,and..whowouldno. 

"WelVsaid  M.»  Wayland,  sharply,  a  suspicion  of  the  tnttb 
twnmg  upon  her,  "what  has  this  to  do  withlt." 

"Eveo-thing     I-m  the  governess  proficient  in  French  and 
^^usK,  and  „,.h  no  objection  to  ,«ve|.    I  have  go.  the  sit^ 

You  I     Oh,  you  wretched,  Jeceitfal  child  I     Ypu  shall 


3tgB4 

"Yes,  1  wall    It  is  better  I 


should.    This  idle,  aimless 


-f 


'   f 


\^ 

1 

1. 

■f 

f 

V 

il 

■ 

,    ,! 

^•i. 

^ 

1 

11 


''I 


i 


•^ 


<:x^' 


^■•h 


-TTf.'i  - 


''-^P' 


232 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


worthless  life  won't  do  any  longer.  I  hav?  youth  and  strength] 
and  duty  ordains  I  should  work  for  my  living,  like  other  folks] 
Dear  Mrs.  Wayland,  my  best  friend,  don't  think  me  nngratefulj 
But  it  is  right  for  me  to  go.  I  should  lose  my  self-respect  if 
remained  dependent  any  longer.  I  knew  you  would  not  heal 
of  it — that  is  why  I  have  been  acting  sub  rosa.  Now  it  is  tod 
late  to  draw  back  if  I  would — I  am  signed,  sealed,  and,  in  threj 
days,  will  be  delivered.' 

"And  where,  pray,  may  you  be  going,  Miss  Tresyliaa?— t 
Kamtschatka?" 
„  Sybilla  laughed. 
•'  Not  quite  so  bad — only  to  New  Zealand  I'' 
"  New— zt;>5<7//    Good  Heaven,  child  I  areyoucnuy?" 
"  I  hope  not ;  else  the  Rev.  Mr.  Parks  will  have  made  a 
bargain  1    No,  but  I  really  ain  tired  of  Boston.     I  want  to 
away,  and  forget  the  wretched  past  in  hard  work.     Oh,  doi 
oppose  me,  my  dear,  kind  friend — help  me  against  myself    Yc 
don't  know  what  a  struggle  it  has  cost  me  to  do  this.     OH 
help  roe  to  be  strong  and  brave — tell  me  to  go  1"  v   j 

*'  You  shall  go  if  you  desire  it,  but  I  know  how  it  will  be 
a  repetition  of  life  at  Mrs,  Plummer's.     In  three  weeks  you 
be  skin  and  bone."     '  '  ^  --,       :        i    J 

**No,"  said  Sybilla,  earnestly;  "no,  indeed.  The  cat< 
that  wore  me  to  a  shadow  ip  New  York  can  never  come  agaij 
I  am  innocent  of  the  crime  I  thought  I  was  guilty  of,  iwd,  wl 


.#--: 


Tmistbok  there  for  a  haunting  apparition,  is  my  living  husbanj 
Oh,  believe  me«  I  shall  be  better  and  happier  &r  Irom  here  a| 


-.SS" .  J 


''     niJi  kiE^^.«lki0^fe''<3  S;*  "  '£^ts<Sii-<iJMiA^Ss^ 


.,.,.p.y^.^^,.:...;.;^.,;^^v:. 


ills' 
ft- 


mf' 


i^ 


a  Trwylian?— t 


TXnS  irtRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


m 

bts„associations,  ^nd  if  I  should  die  there,  what  should  it  mat- 
ter ?    There  I"  pointing  upward,  'Ms  the  only  true  countiy  1" 
'    Mrs.  Wayland  sighed. 

"Ever  willful.  I  know  it  is  no  use  tqcontend.     Do  as ^ 
"Till,  my  darling  Sybilla,  and  God  b^ss  you  wherever  you  go." 

Sybilla  kissed  her,  and  silently  left  the  room. 

At  dinner  Mrs.  Wayland  broke  the  news  to  her  husband  and 
on. 

The  former  protested  loudly  against  any  such  step  ;  the  latter 
aid  veiy  little,  but  was  thoughtful,  and  a  little  sad.     As  they 
|ir<Me  from  the  table,  he  said  to  Sybilla,  iix  a  low  voice  ; 
"  Whom  do  you  think  is  in  Boston  ?" 

She  lifted  her  eyes  with  a  quick,  searching  glance,  and  a  sud, 
pen  paling. 

Ah,  she  knew  1  v 

"Yes,  he  is  here,"  said  the  lawyer,  ans^vering  that  look,  "at 

he  Revere.     He  leaves  again  at  the  end  of  the  week,  to  take 

Ip  his  permanent  residence  at  the  South.  •  Would  you  not  like 

*)  say  good-by  P—yoa  may  never  meet  again, " 
"Yes,"  said  Sybilla,  drawing  a  long,  hard  breath,  "yes." 
"If  you  will  write  a. line  to-night,  I  will  deliver  it  to-morrow. 

Be  asked  how  you  were." 

He  strode  away  abrupUy,  and  Sybilla  went  slowly  up  to  he« 

)om...,.,-,.i„...... ■■^..j...r,,Z^.. ' 

Ah  I  how  rebelliously  her  heart  bea^  and  she  had  thought 
he  wag  resigned. 

She  sat  for  houn  at  her  tobies  the  wbi|e  sheet  spread  open  bo. 


^' 


-\ 


M 


r^f 


^-,    -  'i"-  T«!^^->  ff^flfg^'J    -y  f«n^-n 


■^-'x'' 


»34 


7K&  VTRGlmA  HBTRESS. 


I 


fore  her,  not  knowing  what  to  say.     At  last,  in  very  desperation, 
she  dashed  off  a  few  abrupt  lines : 

I  leave  this  country  in  two  days,  in  all  likelihood  never  to  re-, 
turn.  I  do  not  deserve  it,  I  know;  but,  oh  I  if  you  would 
send  me  away  happy,  bV  coming  to  say  farewell,  I  should  never 
forget  it  to  my  dying  day  I  I  have  no  right  even  to  address  you, 
much  less  right  to  ask  you  to  forgive  me;  but  I  will  npver  cease 
to  pray  that  some  day— «ome  day— you  may  learn  to  do  it 
-  Vou  know  all  my  sin  and  folly,  but  you  do  not  know  how  bit- 
terly I  have  repented  and  suffered.  If  you  will  not  come,  send 
me  one  little  line  of  adieu,  and  even  /4a/  will  make  me  happy 

Sybilla. 
Had  Sybilla's  jheart  been  less  full,  she  might  have  been  ablel 
to  write  much  more.     She  cried  until  her  eyes  and  heart  achet 
alike  over  this  epistolary  composition,  and  only  went  to  bee 
when  the  new  day  was  red  in  the  sky. 

Mr.  Waylpnd  delivered  the  note  next  morning,  and  Sybillal 
sat  in  a  fever  of  expectation  at  home.  Oh  1  would  he  cornel 
or  would  he  even  send  her  one  poor  line  in  ^rewell? 

She  grew  sick  with  anxiety  as  the  day  wore  on,  and  threw  her 
self  in  a  sort  of  despair  on  the  lounge. 

"He  will  not  come!  He  will  not  comel  I  might  hav«j 
known  it,  and  yet— oh  J  he  migh^  he  might,  if  he  knew  hov 
miserable  I  am." 

Just  then  the  door-bell  rang.     She  sprang  up,  flushed  anci 
trembling,  and  a  minute  later  the  housekeeper  ushered  in  Cok 
nel  Evandyke. 

He  was  little  changed — somewhat  thinner  and  paler,  per] 
hap»^but  beardedp  and  grave,  and  statftly,  and  hanH«nni«>niH>v^ 


t.^"; 


>r 


t^-"" 

J^^" 


(*'-'»'"«?w- 


veiy  desperation,] 


t  have  been  ablel 


r/f£  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS.  ,35 

[and  &r  beyond  the  power  of  speech.     The  gentleman  was  per- 
•fectly  self-possessed— outwardly,  at  least 

"I  am  happy  to  see  you  again,"  he  said,  bowing  gravely 
ind  just  touching  her  hand,  "and  looking  better  than  when  \ 
lleft." 

He  sat  down. 

Sybilla  followed  his  example,  and  tried  to  speak. 
"It  was  vety  good  of  you  to  come." she  said,  felteringly. 
"  You  received  my  note  ?" 

jFrom  Wayland?    Yea     You  ar.  going  away-may  I  ask 

"To  New  Zealand." 

Colonel  Evandyke  opened  Ws  eyes  in  surprise. 

"To  New  Zealand  I  So&rl  What  can  possibly-but  I  be« 
^our  pardon,  I  have  no  right  to  ask." 

"Yes,"  said  Sybilla,  sadly,  "you  have.  I  am  going  as  gov, 
^rness,  I  may  never  come  back ;  that  is  why-"  She  stopped, 
lalf  choked.  '  ^      ' 

"J^us  hope  for  better  things/'he  said,  kindly;  "letushope 
^ou  may^et  return.  I  should  have  deeply  regretted  it,  had 
^ou  left  wj^hout  my  seeing  you-without  a  chance  to  say  good. 

The  te^rs  were  coming ;  it  was  veiy  ha^l  to  keep  them  back. 
>ut  she  <|id  it,  somehow. 

She  d^red  not  look  at  him-ehe  knew  the  dark,  penetiatlnir 

'69  M^t?^  firerf  nii  h>y  fej%a — — ->—  -^ --^' 


ted  inriier  fecfe^ 


«.! 


hm  tsked  me  to  foigive  yo^-^lAhrgin  you.  freely. 


;t! 


-  .4 

-  ;i|  jl 

■■•»• 

1'  J 

i 

liiii 

■■  >-.J4 

fj 

4 

jM 

vmB 

!li| 


'■■'11 


I 


1.-^ 


-<. 


:•''•).• 


lL': 


as*  TME  VIRGINIA  BEIRESS. 

It  ib  more  than  I  could  have  said  a  few  months  ago,  but  peri 
haps  I  was  too  hard,  too  bitter.     A  true  friend  of  yours  has  bee 
talking  to  me  since,  and  brought  me  to  look  on  things  gone  b 
In  a  more  Christian  light"  r 

"Who?"shefel4red. 

"My  motherl" 

The  tears  came  now.     That  poor,  wronged,  heart-brokei 
mother  I 

She  laid  her  face  on  the  arm  of  her  chair,  and  the  tears  fel 
like  rain.  .      *        /  * 

"Since  we  mhst  part,  let  us  part  friends,"  he  said,  rising,  a 
holding  out  his  hand.  "I  forgive  you,  with  all  my  heart  Goo 
by,  my  friend,  and  God  bless  you  I" 

She  gave  him  her  hand  without  looking  up ;  the  convulsi 
sobs  shook  her  from  head  to  foot  Oh  I  it  was  hard— it  was  b 
ter— itwas  cruel  as  death,  this  parting  I  Her  very  heart  Spem 
breaking  1 

He  pressed  her  hand,  dropped  it,  and  walked  to  the  doo 
There  he  paused.     Those  anguished,  tortured  sobs  moved  hi 
hard  as  he  had  resol^^d  to  be,  and  he  loved  her  in.spite  of  al 
he  knew  it;  now.  '  ^ 

He  turned,  hesitated  irresolutely;   there  ^wta  a  momen 
struggle,  and  then  the  noble  nature  conquered.     He  advance 
she  heard  him ;  his  ttms  were  around  her,  his  voice,  loving  a 
foigiving,  in  hereatl 

•Sybillarhesaid,  "mya^/'  ,T 


It  was  ^ 
•ubt,  to  1 
id  bettere< 
Sybilla  W: 
few  Zealai 
[agle  was  t( 
id  Mrs.  P£ 
The^  parti 
spend  Ch 
Mrs.  Nafe 


•«< 


f*U-='  v  -i, " '  .■"*.,•-  "'>?*  '■  ■ 


Lftsijiflli., 


Ivandyke. 
"Itwas  1 
but  I  thin 
'en  if  they  i 
So  the  haj 
Don't  ask 
[nglish  lan{ 
owfrom^j 
3u  to  know 

St  in  the  ra 

—-a 


f.^  1»"^ 


rza  VJRGmiA  HEIRESS,- 


*n 


'  \ 


'  111' 


CHAPTER  XXIIL 


AT   PEACE. 


It  was  ^  great  disappointment  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Pirks,  ho 
3ubt,  to  lose  his  governess ;  but,  as  the  governess  had  gope 
bd  bettered  herself,  what  could  he  do? 
I  Sybilla  was  to  leave  Boston  on  the  day  appointed,  but  not  for 

jew  Zealand.     It  jvas  the  sunny  South,  this  time,  and  Dick 

laglewas  to  be  her  traveling  companion,  and  not  the  Rev.  Mr. 

Tid  Mrs.  P&rks,  and  the  five  little  Parkas. 
[The^parting  with  the  Waylands  is  over;  itiey  have  promised 
I  spend  Christmas  with  Mrs.  Nagle  in  her^i^thern  home.     It 
Mrs.  Nafele  again,  for  tiie  ex-colonel  has  propped  the  title  of 

|vandyke.  ' 

"It  was  the  name  of  my  benefactor  and  friend. "he  said; 
I  but  I  think,  on  the  whole,  I  prefec  sailing  under  true  colors, 
ren  if  they  ^  less  aristocratic" 
I  So  the  happy  pair  are  off  and  away* 

Don't  ask  me  to  tell  you  how  happy  they  were,  because  the 
Inglish  language  is  inadequate  to  the  task,  and,  if  you  don  t 


QV  feonL  experience^^ou«ay..goiae  dttyr— Jt-is  eiTongh^tor 
M  to  know  they  were  happy,  and  forgot  all  the  da»kn|ess  of  th^ 
8t  in  the  radiance  of  the  present, 


M 


;, 


^r^ 


; 


% 


ill 


'  fi'  41 


Si 


.  ■>-!. 


rt. 


338 


TffM  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS, 


Sybilla  never  asked  where  fhey^ere  goingi.     It. might  be 
Florida,  Virginia,  or  the  moon.     What  did  it  ruitter,  since 
was  with  her  ? — and  Mr.  Nagle  diid  no.  -.lighten  her. 
spoke  of  ''home"  vaguely;  it  was  somewhere  in  ^iigini^ 
and  gave  her  to  understand  his  mother  was  there  awaiting  ther 

They  reached  Richmond.     A  handsome  carriage  met  th« 
at  the  depot  as  they  arrived,  and  Mr!  and  Mrs.  Nagle  entere(| 
and  were  whirled  off. 

Sybilla  sat  very  silent,  her  husband's  hand ,  clasped  in  hen 
looking  dieapily  out  at  the  ^miliar  landscape,  and  thinking 
with  tender  sadness,  of  poor  grandpapa.  Ah  I  if  only*  he  wc^ 
alive  t9  see  this  hap^y  day  I    ,      "     •   '  . 

Her  husband  watched  her,  half  smiling. 

"You  recognize  these  ^miliar  landiAarks,  Sybilla,  I  hopej 
''     "Oh,  yes,"  languidly.     "Where  are  we  going?" 

"  Home,  of  course." 

"Is  it  near?" 

"Very  near,  my  darling." 

They  entered  an  inn-gateway,  and  rattled  up  a  long  avenij 
as  be  spoke.     Sybilla  started  up  with  a  ciy — 

"  Why,  Dick,  this  is  Aww//' 

"Of  course,  my  dear;  that  is  what  I  have  been  telling  yd 
all  along." 

"  But  it  is  my  home,  only  the  house  is  new,  and— oh,  Diclj 
do jw  own  Tresylian  now  ?"  ^  / 


—  HisTOiite  washei  answer,  and  Sybilla,  far  a  Taptnrerimpel 
ously  ki well  never  mind. 


*      •  4 


THE  VIRGINIA  HEIRESS. 


«39 


She  sprang  out,  and  ran  up  the  steps  of  the  handsome  new 

pansion,  and  into  the  hall. ,  There  old  Mrs.  Nagle,  with  a  smila 

If  welcome,  caught  her  to  her  breast,  and  Bessie;^  with  her  babjr^ 

her  arms,  stood  shyly  in  the  background.     And  Sybilla  was 

)ring,  and  kissing  everybody,  and  asking  them  to'foigive  her,   i 

ad  so  happy  she  hardly  knew  what  to  do  with  herself 

*  *  *  *  *  *  41  * 

And  so — that's  all  1 

That's  the  whole  story  of  the  Virginia  Heiress,  and  it  is  time 
[)r  me  to  put  on  my  bonnet  and  go.     I  can't  deny  that  she  be- 

ived  badly,  and  you  must  ha\e  felt  indignant  with  her ;  but, 

Mr.  Dick  Nagle  has  forgiven  her,  I  don't  see  why  you 
liouldn't  I  know  she  has  been  a  model  from  that  day  to  this, 
nd  in  all  broad  America  there  is  not  a  happier  couple  than 
tichard  Nagle  and  his  pretty  wifftj  ~ 

Mamma  Nagle  lives  with  them,  serenely  happy  in  her  old 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Frank  Shield  are  at  hom;6  on  the  New  England    / 


up  a  long  avcnM™'  ^^'^  thriving,  of  course 


/ 


Dustace  and  Eleanor  flourish'  in  New  York,  and  live  veiy(. 
[)htentedly  together.    '  /  \ 

George  Wayland  is  in  that  city,  also,  a  bachelor  still,  and  / 
jkely  to  remain  in  that  blessed  st^te  ,    ^ 

So  we  leave  Sybilla,  a -model  housekeeper  and,  Virginia  ma- 
ron.    "All  we  have  to  say  is,  in  the  language  of  the  iaiiy  tales, 


laptprerimpety*^  ^  ^^^^  happy  foieverafter^ 


N 


THE  ENO. 


PI 


rW-il: 


•! 


»■-.« 


VfttOftSjiW  >    <\       S^ 


I    ;♦ 


t-i,.. 


W' 


••THE  RHINI 
THE  ALPS, 
And  the  BATTLEFIELD  LINEl 


The  Famous 

.  .  fkSTFDnmviiiGnui 

BAS  wo  BQVAIi  BKTWBBN 

OINOINNATI  AND  NEW  YOlfeKl 

TIa  Washington,  Baltimore,  ui4  PliURdelplila/ 

Veatibtded,  Steam  Heated,  and  Eleotrio  lighted  Tbrongbont. 
ffHBOUOS  DXNIKO  OAB  and  OOttPLSTB  FUIXKAN  8ESVZ0  j 
THBOUOH  8LEEFEB9  TO  AKD  FBOM 
,:  8T*  LOtriSr  CH  ICAaqAND  LOWI^y  ILLB!. 

■nie  most  Interartlng  Ustorlcaasoeiatl^^  and  tlie  moat  ttarflUnranilMMitL 
aoen^ry  in  tbe  United  BUtas  are  linked  to(g<ether  bjr  the  C.  A  O.  Syatem,  yrVUOk  tnvei^ 
Vligmia,  tbe  flist  Ibotlioldof  BnglMi  aeitten  in  America,  wliere  mg  RevtrintlOoa 
War  was  bMun  and  ended,  and  where  tlie  great  battles  of  the  Civil  war  were  ftogi 
noans  tba  Bio*  Itidge  and  Alleghany  Mountains  and  the  (tamods  ShnModoab  Vallf 
nacres  tbe  odebR^  Bprtngs  region  of  the  VlrRlnia8L4Md.UeB  thntdf^  a*m 
New  Bl?«r.  where  the  scenery  is  grand  beyond  descrlpdou.   It  fitUows  tb<r  bi 
the  Kanawna  aiid  Ohio  lttr«*s,-aiid-penatwites  tba  ftunou  Blaa  aiaaa  region  of  Kl 
toOky,  noted  (br  producing  tbejneatest  race-bones  of  tbe  world. 
Vvotmam,  IMdei%:;dcsMflM»>  pamphlets,  eta,  aimly  to  Fennaylvanla  Ba&r 
^t^oacMUi  NewlrortE,  FhlladeQAla,  and  BalUm<5«,  (be  prtnoipal  tioket  oSB 
lluoui^uMit  the  coontiy,  or  any  of  the^jB^lowing  C.  dk  O.  agendeat 

HEW  TOBK-«M  and  1SS8  B*>^wa]r. 
3  v-.-  -ITABECINOTQH-rglS  and  im  x'ennsylTania  ayemUb 
"'"'"    OUfCIHirATr— Corner  Fifth  aud  WalaatatrMta.    -    it.  t  »^  "s 

LOUI8Vn«LB— 888  Foortb  avenue.  ,     . .' 

.  LOUIB— Comer  Broadway  and  Cheatnnt  gtreeli     •  a.  - 


T0A«K>-4tt  Olaxk  itRielr- 
OL  9»  BTAir,  Aagtotaat  Generid  Yifitticiff  Mtni,  OtaMliinatt,  a 

~  W*WUJn^  OenenlFMcebgor  A^BOIk  WMlilaBtoiwIX( 


Jut-  . 


y*- 


!(l^i»ilM^  ^ei  iim&^^i^^^^^:f«^^2i,^J^'^li^fy^^K  .-*&^<.I^4^.i.^^<l^ 


-<-r 


|MriS80URI,» 

id     KAN8A8p 

INDIAN  TERRITORY, 
|TBXA8, 

MEXICO^!? 

CALIFORIilA. 

jSM  Bixzumro  chaib  cabs  (xa  kul  trains. 


WKom  THB  katmBiJkrx' T^Axmm  to  THm 


M 


\ 


\h 


i 


For  further  information  call  on  or  addras  your  nearest  "7  ,, 

Ticket  Agent,  or  :      ^        '  '.  "'•   \\\ 


'  ii 


/I 


Vji  "^5^  "^^ 


I  .' 


Munmer 


.  I^OKlslittl*  need  ofemphwidng  the  FACT  that  dw 

Maine  Central 
Railroad  -^ 

Hm  »eea  the  developer  of  Ba«  Hamo«,  .nd  h«  «d«  thto  lacompu«ble 

home  the 

Crown  of  the  Atlantic  Coaat. 

The  Netund  Wondew  of  the  White  Mountjdne, 

The  Wierd  Grandeur  of  the  Dixville  Notch, 

The  Qjuint  W«ys  and  Scenes  of  Qjiebec, 

The  Multifarious  Attractions  of  Montreal, 

The  Elegance  of  Poland  Springs, 

The  Inexhaustible  Fishing  of  Rangeley. 

The  Unique  Scenery  of  Moosehead,  ^ 

The  Remarkable  Healthfuhiess  of  St.  Andrews. 

Are  all  within  contact  of  the  ever-lenffthenlnff  arms 
of  the  Maine  Central  Railroad. 


The  Renowned  Vacation  Line. 

Or,  to  thoM  who  enjoy  Ocean  Sailing,  the  statement  is  made  that  the  plo- 
Beer  line  along  the  coast  of  Maine,  making  numerous  landings  at  pictuiesaue 
points,  almost  encircling  the  Island  of  Mt.  Desert  b  the  •■       — i 

Portland,  Mt.  DWbERT  and 
Maohias  Steamboat  Co. 


The  New,  Large  and  Luxurious  Steamer,  "Frank  Joiies,"  makea,  during  the 
summer  season,  two  round  trips  per  wtek  between  Portland,  Roeklandi  Ba/Har. 
bor  and  Machiasport, 

pllcaSlrto**^  **"*""**'  *''***^  «^*™»P°rt«««fln.  •"«!  other  Information  upon  ap- 


-F.  6.  BOOTHBTT 


^ 


^  *      ^^  ,  GEO.  FrEYANS, 

GP.andT.Agt.  2«u  M$r. 

POHTLAND,  Mb<  '  , 


M. 


4. 


.-Si.i 


"■v"  '/r;-^  ■ 


'^1^  t-i™ 


iparable  wmmer 


HE  n 

iflfiULBOW 


ft  Wqfnih  Cincinnati,  and  LoristlHd  Riilmail. 

'Natorel  GasBodB.'  ne  Fiplar  M  LhKi 


reorto,  BIoominttoB,  Chleago,  St.  Louis,  Springfield,  Lalliv«tt% 

Flmkfort,  Mandey  Portland,  Lima,  Flndlay,  Fostoriay 

Fremont  Sfindnsky,  Indianapolis,  Kokomo,  Pem^ 

^Boehester,    Pljmonth,    liaPorte,    H^hlgwi 

^  atft    It.   Wayne,   Hartford,    BltalRon, 

■  GonhorsTllle^  and  C9noinnatl,  maklnf 

llriGt  ConneGtIons  for  an  Pdhls  East,  West,  North  aad  Sontib 


I 


THE  OHLY  UHE  TRAVERSIHQ 
THE  8REAT  NATURAL  8Aft  AND  OIL  HELDS 

Ohio  and  Inditfna,  giving  ihejpattons  of  this  Popular  Bonte  Ml 
[>portiuii^to\ritiieaB  tiie  gnma  qight  fiom  the  train  aa  they  paai 
irongh.  Great  itelda  covered  with  tanks,  in  which  are  stored  millionf 
f  gaUons  of  oil.  Natural  Oas  wells  shooting  their  flames  high  in  the 
r,  and  the  most  beaiitifnloitiO%  fairly  aliTe  with  glass  andall  Uads 
!  factories. 

We  famish  oar  patrons  with  Elegant  Bedining  Ohatr  Oar  Seati 
^ree,  on  day  trains,  and  L.  E.  dc  W.  Balaoe  Sleeping  tuid  Bulov  Oan^ 
t)D  night  trams,  at  veiy  reasonable  rates. 
Direct  connections  to  and  from  Olereland,  BcfMio.  New  Toi^ 
DBton,  Jehiladetehia,  Baltimore^^ittaborg,  Washiugton,  Kansas^i^ty, 
niTer,  Omaha,  Portland,  San  Fraodsco,  vat  tik  points  in  the  Unttodi 
fttes  and  Canada,  I, 

This  la  the  popolar  xoato  with  ihe  ladies^  on  aoooant  of  its  ooaxteoogf 
laopommodating  toain  olHdals,  and  with  the  commeidal  traTelsr 
1  ifntau  pnbUolor  its  oomforta,  qojek  time  and  sore  connections. 


^fnmjrfiniherpaiiicMiars  cait  on  cr  aSat^anyXtcketA^^ 
M.  O.  PARKER,         \  :        CHA8.  F.  DALY, 


;--ita^fci2g^^a4Mb^'^^li*tfg'.*fL-tV' 


■J»?V, 


v2^' 


i 


/m 


i 


■  1^  J^l^fpwl'yt   *'  ■' 

,,        f --  ^--r^'^n 

J-S-r-   ^.-       ■.   ;;■:, 

\  -^^'^ 


■*«  ?y 


'i^*-- 


AND 

HDDSdif 


Th 


i« 


Vrji^sflJ 


ONLY  DIRBGT  ROUTE  TO  THE  GREAT 


5.1 


MOUNTAINS 


XoantiaM.  flu»tfl«iH  S^iSl  IMta,  flfcu<m  BMlilgi^   T 
Ooopentown,  How***  OitTa^  ana  tfa«  OelebnrtiMt 
Chravlty  Bailio«4  lat^nnn.  OMrboada]* 
."    .  and  HomiwwlaH  Pa.,  stoMUt  th* 

ClxMiast  Onmhtnatiott  of  Bealili  utd  SImmu*  TTawiif  ia 

•  THE  DIRECT  LINE  TO  THE  SUPERB  SUittMER  IjOTEL 

?  OF  THE  North,        ^     ^  ,.  -^^ 

••THE  HOTEL  CHAMPLAm/*    ^}. 

CDxnt  IfilM  Sooth  of  ftattBbTngb.  on  Lake  Ohanaplain.) 

1HE  SHORTEST  JUID  HOST  COMFORTABLE  ROOTEI 
BETWEEN  NEW  YORK  AND  MONTREAL.. 

b  Oomwetfam  ivia»  tba  Brio  Bathrar*  tha  a«oat  FIstaMoaM 
1     and  Ji&wmi  lug  Bonta  batj^ean  Ohtoago  and  Boatotu^ 
^Dia  anl^r  thxooflrh  PnlliDan  l^iiaa* 


ilv. 


rMMCM 

Th 


ill  8fUB|M  for  ilkiiinliNl  i|ii||i  fi 
H.0.YOUNa—  ^  -^1^1*^^ 


J.  W.  BURI 


■ .fe>; 


isriD 


;:   f*. 


B  GREAT 

TAINS 

ebralMl 
■to 


NlEW 


Tr«v^en 
Should  always  ask  te  tkloli  via 


osToafe 


II 


.V^' 


:\^ 


«v, 


AIR  une''  Miitird  ^AiN, 

day*  only,  due  destinat&m,  6.00  Pi  IL 


'■I 


mm  ISMOKER,  PARLOR  tm.  AMI 


f  i 


ibvteia 
lE^lfOTEL 

.* 

iun; 

Shampbdn.) 

IBLE  ROUTE 
ITWAk 


lOiMteli 
URDICK. 


turn 
Pakk 


COAOH^ 


^'!f^ 


.1 


ivi  At  aifii'  IUavb 

AKB    StAHON,    BoSTOli 


Sfr,. 


ttt^mt  nmammJ^  ^^  ^^^  Houae,  PmHe  Square  StmUoa,  Boatof 


The  Norwich  Line, 


iWH^]  irrt'ji 


*# 


INSIDE  ROUTE. 

4n.  NortI)  River,  ^6w  Ywk,  1 80  P.  M.  wefk  days 
GonMKtni^  at  New  Londdn  with  Stealnboat  Expresa. 
diM  Woreestar,  8^0  A.  M;  Boston,  JN^Qjiiyii    f 

:    RETURNING.    X,  ■       ^ 

TMna  LemikiAtoii^Oi  P.  ML^  Worcester  8.00  rM^Mek  days  only. 

Connecting  at  New  London  with  Steamm^  of  ilw 
*  '-•  "  Uie  dud  New  York  7.W  A.  ■.      "- 

HoiMUi  tUmiiifns  leave  and  anhre  Kneeland  St  Station  (Plyroouth  Oiv> 
Y^  N.  Yi,  >i.  H.  &  H.  Rd.),  Boston. 

Tldttfay  Statciooins  on  Steamers,  i)nd  M  Infomtattaii  at  offloea, 
Pier  40,  NortlrRiverj^  -r--."4JBW  YORK.  '*"      ^ 
"^*^^  fOU  State  House,-  -^  .-^i'-  .■  -i^  t-:-  _ ,..  ;v^ 
T  T  ICll<}eland  St  Station  (Plymouth  A  BOSTOH 


j-UMStaie  House,    ,^i    .  -:.■  t 
IbMieland  St  Station  (Plymouth  J 1 


W»R»9/UiCQGK»  General  Passenger  Agent*  Bostoiw 


_w    -f^ 


•< 


-S^i 


% 


'  ^ 


,^ 


'-','',''»«••'*"''  ''■•  hp-'^'  v-l'iis  jf !<-% 


!     .      '^ 


-SPIKED        DOWN 


The  iNTERcduTNiAL  Railway 

\      HALIFAX,    ST.  JOHM,  .      .'^ 

;,       8YONBY  ANO  QUEBEO 

IS  THE  ^OLAR  ROUTE  FOR  SUMMER  TRAVEL 

Vftp^mLLED  FOR  MAGNIFICENT  SCENERY. 

^..^^Ji  Oy^BE'C  It  skirts  for  TWO  HUNDRED  MILES  th« 
LAKE.iWOUNTAIN  and  VALLEY  r^n  of  the       :  ' 

METAPEDIA  AND  RESTICDUC'HE   RIVERS 

an(fontotheWOJlLD.RENOWNED  BRASD'OR  LAKES  in  Cape  Breton 
,  Connecting  at  Point  du  Chene,  N.  B.,  and  Picton  N  S^  for  PRrwrR 
||JDWARD  ISLAND,  "THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  GULF.^'  ^°'^^^^ 

i.v«,?!**.»^fi?^*y  '"  America  presents  to  PLEASURE  SEEKERS. 
[INVALIDS  and  SPORTSIVIEN  so  many  unrivaHed  attractiorts. 

The  ONLY  ALL  RAIL  ROUTE  between  HALIFAX  and  ST.  JOHN. 

OIO.  W.  ROBINSON,        •       •       •       • .       Eistem  FrBteht  and  PaaKngn-  Agent. 

WMtern  Frctf ht  aii4  PMMngcr  A«n^ 


N.  WCATNEIISTON. 


^M 


93  T^  Street,  Rossln  Houm  Block,  Toronto, 
mbdOaUr 


D.ParTIN<»R,  JNO.  M.LYONS, 

WO'KnWN.N.  Bi, CANADA,     r      w,r^ 


{: 


■'«'':f5fc'»^Ki^ 


Ni 


A  Romance  of  the  Cloak  and  Swoi^ 


r      / 


A*  Origtuat 


By  AMEDEE  achard. 


iUomfrom  th9  FmuAt  and  for  tht  #Vr«(  3Vnm 
'Don*  into  Bnglith, 


SOME  PRESS  OOMME, 

ilL*J"*?^  !P  1^^  <>^"P  ^  dialoyae,  audlntenaely 
^Mk&n^S^  "  '  goodrqulok  .toiy  iSS^ 


)( the  Cloak  and  Sword.* 
olorfaL  *•  *  *  >BaUe* 
17  obanDB  for  tbe  fair.** 

me  Aobacd  as  aaperlor 


tUe  fldelfty  of  man.  the  saoredneu  of  MmaBhlp!ld^^wiotthT^^ 

"^^^"yS*'°  ""°""^  *****"  *^*  ■**»''  »  '"oin^on  for  the  wid^S 

":ae  Cham  that  to  always  to  be  found  In  thft  worksWf  the  beat  Trenab 

orSI?.Si1«««»^^^^^^^^^^ 

TS'et^^JSiSn'S.^^i^^^^l^j^^^^^  to  make  love. 


i'^VXVi^S'A'L^^B. P?^^_ J«?loj'?y •?«  rei^nge. the, bnfltot. 


and  rewVrda  of  warrwitb  iMhea^fSSSTo?^^^^ 
that  make  the  whole  world  kln."-ir«ia^Aih£a»? 


puches  of  nature 


iu>toiof*2Shut]3K*fo' *«**<»"  there  are  „. 
aoter  of  an  histoflbal  romance,  and  when  one 


preoiated. 


few  which  partake  of  the  ohai>< 

a --— —  .-.^.•uwvt  aHiu  wucu  one   to  found  that  dOMi  it:  ia  un. 


a^n'arrto'»Ji%«e»w'?r^^^^ 

.irect;»f?S5Vb'S>ffiS'4»:  "ft  lt'S^r/S?»e'SSd"'wJS*lSS 


T 


BILLE-ROM  to  No.  9  of  "Parto  flema,"  far  aato  by  an  BbokieUera  oi 
NewMleaten,  orient  poati»ald  to  any  addi«M  on  raoelpt of  price.  95  oent« 
b7tlwpiiUlalwn.RBni  MMMTpm  U^  Im» Hm^  VtwfMk.; 


t 


,;.ri' 


I      I 


f 


III 
!! 


i 


BY  CLEMENT  R  MAilLEY. 


PI2ICSS   O-ptNXOVTH, 

*"Btollard  Forreat,  Bachelor.*  by  Clement  R  KmleyT'k  »  JMght  and/ 
pleMing  Btory.  The  love  story  of  the  old  bachelor,  whoim  heart  wa«  8o( 
ong  steeled  to  woman's  charms,  biit  who  snoonmbs  at  last  to  the  girl  «hq 
attempts  to  take  the  life  of  bis  best  friend  because  she  Imagines  be  wranged 
her  yoQng  andbeaotUal  sister,  is  preUlly  told."— .^twton  Timet. 

-  'Blohard  Forrest,  Baohelur.'  is  a  story  whose  narration  Is  simple  a^d 
dlreot,bat  it  has  auo  a  freshness  and  vivacity  which  add  greatly  to  lu 
charms.  The  characters  are  well  drawn.— ilTeiooril;  il<lt)erf(Mr. 

"An  antertidnln^  story,  telling  of  the  oaptuie  of  the  heart  of  mi  old 
baohelor.**— JVeto  yoHkiVvca 

**A  story  at  most  anoonventlon^l  type.  The  theme  Is  good,  and  It  is 
well  told.  It  is  SIl  Vary  natural  and  true  to  Ufe^'and  when  all  Is  said  and 
done  it  lingers  In  tb^  mind  as  a  pleasant  memory.**<>-/r(nAviUS  Amertean. 

-  'Blohard  Forrest.  Bachelor,'  is  a  very  i^easlng  love  Btoty,  inoet  entef» 
tatnlngly  totd.**-Jnir(  ITortA  (taselM, 

"The  author  tc^s  a  very  nuoonvsntional  story  la  ^RMnutd  Wotnik, 
Bachelor,*  and  It  ls|TeryenterU!ning.'*—iKroofe{yi»  Avis.  '    v  - 

*'In  'Blobard  ^errsst,  Baobelor,'  the  author  gives  aveiy  ptetty  story. 
There  are  strong  r«llgidns  senttibents,  and  the  author  puts  fatVb.  some  weQ* 
defljied  IdefM  oa  the  social  relattons  eC  men  and  woBBea.'^-^fiWarfslpfciia 
Catt.  *T 

•'A  Boysi  of  more  fhaa  usual  Interest  Is 'Btekaid  Forrest,  Baobeleiii*  It 
desoribSs  [{oenesana  Inoldents  tbat  maybeseevand  azperleneedtqraBy 
on»ln  stmtlar  eireumstaaces.  There  Is  mtioli  tbat  Is  strange  and  stfarrlag  in 
the  story,  yet  nflltore  ts  not  departed  from  either  In  the  iDQldentcoiTi^ar 
aoters  introdiieed<— BrooMyn  CUiam. 
I. -^mji^^;^^^^^  tgiQ  ^  sustained  Interest  and  dramatle  ebaraoter."- 


~:    ^'l^eaatWtdlstlMstiwy^aB  old  twohsloi's  love. ibf^^ 

^in  nfe'lATBlttittable  to  OiTpld's  <1hk,  and  then  be  detects  tbe  woman  e#  frts 

iwart^  Mislee-ta  aa  attempt  npon  the  life  of  his  )>osem  friend,  faavcate  an 

insigtBsrft^af.  ttl^vei^ytrnetolite.— AtfaiitoJ'eitrMi.l 

'"■■■ '--  •'^olu^  VOrr«s«  Baekelor/  Is  after  tiie  style  of  *9lr.  BttMs  e^ll^ 

Toric,  bat  Is  ratliw  better  wdtte6.''--^&<ir(^bftianiMt,  ...  pi  v 


BIOSASD  VOSBSST,  BACRBLOB,  is  Vo.M  or*KJrlterfon  BerleS,** 
lor  SMS  by  all  Booksellen  or  Newsdaalers,  or  seat  postpaid  to  aay  a<Ui«si' 


fo  STORY  OF  SHERIDAN'S  GREAT  RIDE. 


BY 


JT^P. 


t  ;:, 


-r  tl 


-4 


'i4!i 


ttoliBia  9^miit, 


to  ehuaoter.**- 


"'  PBBSS  OPiNlONa 

titte.  and  raty  aooorate  hlstorioaUy.  "•"•wnw  ana  aaven- 

r  2W»un«.*  Bright  and  intereatlng  In  plot. 
^o«4anl-rh*)n.*  "Shenandoah"  is  a  antpffMi  faia  ...«  ♦!.-. 

exMjlntonnatton  la^l^lfof  thSfthl^^^^  aplrited  et/Ie  and  mnSL 

of  WInoheater  iSd  cUltt  tt&*  *  Shenandoah  oampaign  an<f  of  the  hattlea 

hlatory  and  romance  are  flnS/^^^T^JghJr!  ^SfilSSglt?"'"*  '^^ 

2E«C£|.t?i«r.^  -  wg: 

rSSrSSegt^th^dSTtl^ln'^^^^^^^^  ^.  P. 

djUghtfal  Uttie  gaspB  of  exoltemont,  and  the  «S  3  W 
ttwt  towoven  to  fe  gWnes  like  delioate^to  «to£2 


h; 


•B  xeoelpt  of  prioe.  Moenta,  J»y  (be  poUlahera,         ^  "»«»«^ 

fnxm  *  MQ^SIL  864,1  JloM  MNtt^  y«,r  T«k. 


4*  S( 


rtl 


-r)  :" 


9T 


t  » 


a  WALDO  BROWNE. 


PBESB  OPINION& 
BrtHOnn  MadUf  A  ttMh  love  «tory. 
B^tonJ^nuO:  A thrlllUig  auntlTe  fojinded  on  Flokatt'i  Uwt charge  at 

Mnv  7orir  Aaearder;  ▲  tab  of  tbe  moat  dramaUo  event  of  the  war.  WeU 
worth  rtodlng.  .    ,  •"•'^  "■»•    """ 

Saturday  Mailt  A  faeolnatlng  atory. 

Avokfyn  iSXandanl-nition.*  A  stirring  noreL 

huHmapUtM  »m»nel:  PleMflntrjui^ng  to  thoae  Interested  in  the  OTenta 
ot  war  times,  which  are  faithf  ally  depleted.  "•wwwToaw 

apokMOtr,  Stationer,  d^  Stwdealer:  "A  Daoghter  of  Maryland"  la  m. 
■Wf.  *<»  qntoken  tte  blood  and  awaken  the  pity  of  aU  who  read  it  IS 
TMdlyportraya  the  disbreni  in  families,  some  ol  whom  espoused  the  oaiue 
of  the  North  and  some  the  South.  *r— «i~  m^  ooumi 

Amertean  TclvmUtr:  Very  Interesting;   A  reallstlo  narratlTe. 
^«otaO%  Jmimat:  ••  A  Daughter  of  Maryland,"  iUostrated,  Is  entertain- 

fftw  Tork  World:  "A  Daughter  of  Maryland  "Is  a  war  novel  orowdad 
with  incident  and  adventure,  and  the  ouuSm  WstortwUIyaSSSSt^ 

*  i«^  P*^^*®'  ^  M««yl*nd  "  is  a  dharmlng  love  story, 
tdUiigJMiJdoes^th  a  thrilling  interest  anS  at  tlmS^ 
tender  pathos,  a  tale  of  itroe  love  whose  rongh  and  rugired 
oonrse  was  so  often  tamed  by  the  vicissitudes  of  war,  wid 
"moving  aooidaatsj^ flood  and  field."  The  read^  wiU 
S?J®fwS^?X?**L*^®'P*^°*P«»<»  o'  this  romantic 
SJ?*Sf^S^  S  S®*'^*^'^  f°^  «^«^y  ^J""  the  sorrows 
ffd^^2L*?  ^v  ^**^  ^^  ""^  «"d  women,  whoaa 
love  was  tried  by  the  fire  of  war. 


,        -  ~ A« vt.XN»  Is  ■»<»:  W^ 

"OloT«r  Series.**  for  sale  by  all  Booksellers  and  iTewsdealers,  or  sant^post- 
pa«V  to  My  address,  on  receipt  of  price,  as  ceints,  by  the  pnbUshert, 


»■'.; 


'"£' 


ii.:»t. 


7 


in  the  erents 


,  it  entertebh 


i;  1 


VIOTORIEN   SAllDOU. 


A  Kovelization  of  the  Celebrated  ftoy, 

A.  D.  Han  l««  tow  ,Kto Wa^T^rTSSte^ 

«»rflon<f  Oreaonten*  A  rtory  that  hol^a  the  tatereit.      .' 
"OlSSSdlir?^RjfS?v4  ^2v2rt'S'£S5!»«"«  ««»«flVngly  well  depleted. 

■BH^lireiM/  Avli^dwidpowerftilatoiry.  ' 

-  —  —  -  ^ 

[doneb7irr.A.D. 


^-x 


w*!?*^*!^^? '^  '  -?S«  •mpMfloatloii  into  the  noTel  le  l 
meJS'lrtSS!'  '^•"^'   ^^«  Ito >lt»»tlon.  are  dr«nat!e,  It  l«  by  >• 

.Br»itoHlV««rf«r*  Itha«l)a«toft>r«tttttli»terMfc   -    '^ 


f 


|**doubu_ 
are  well 


MOada.**—. _  „_  ^—.^T-TTTrr  mMinn  Tti  n«i 


- « 


i<i 


1  ";i|. 


u'. 


g^wS^i^-  ^"JStT*  '  I"'  ***'*•  * •' "Dnwna 8arle«»'*  fto Mb br «■ 


■*     '? 


''^^  '^\-''4^^}^i^~'^; 


'■'^"■■■«^ 


The  AdTHOR  OF  Dr:  Jack. 


These  novels  are  copyrighted  ai}d  can  be  jiad  only  in 
the  Criterion  Series.    Paper,  50  cents. 

2.  Dr.  Jackl 

.  _         BY  ST.  GEORGE  RATHBORME. 

3.  Dr.  Jack's  Wife.  I 

BY  THE  AUTHOR  OP  DR.  JACK.  • 

4.  Miss  Pauline  of  New  York* 

^Y  THE  AUTHOR  OF  DR.  JACK. 

5.  Captain  Tom. 

BY  THE  AUTHOR  OP  DR.  )ACK. 

6.  Miss  Caprice. 

BY  THE  AUTHOR  OP  DR.  JAClX. 

7.  Baron  Sam. 

BYTHB  AUTHOR  OP  DR.  JACK..    '  ^ 

9.   Monsieur  Bob  {Mnttrnm-  ^^ 

BY  THE  AUTHOR  OP  DR.  JACK.  V .  *. 

9.   The  Colonel  by  Brevet  (M^wnum^ 

BY  THE  AUTHOR  OP  DR.  JACK. 

.  •       .  ■  '  >  '.i 

10.   Mi^or  Matterson  of  Kentucky 

BY  TUB  AUTHOR  OP  DR.  JACK.  (jmw 

13.   The  Nabob  of  Singapo«re  i^m^ 

BY  THE  AUTHOR  Op  DR.  JACK 


i04 


ToTs^  byaii  Booksellers  andnewSdealers,  or  sent 
postage  free  on  receipt  of  price,  by  the  publishers. 


■<^ 


•r-T* 


<«-«;j^|fef^^^^ 


',  ''.  iff  "i'",3^Sil« 


•^  II 


rs,  or  sent 


Mptm  OP  BBBTHA  M.  CLAY*S  NOVELS  A£m  SOLD  THANi 


iertha  IVLCtoy's  Novels 


'    The  majority  of  these  novels  are  copyrighted  and  can 
be  had  onlydn  the  Clover  Series.    Paper,  25  cents. 


For  a  Woman's  Honor  (new). 
A  Heart's  Bittemesa 
A  Heart's  Idol.    "  ^ 
The  Gipsy's  Daughter. 
In  Love's  Cracible. 
Maijorle  Deane. 
Gladys  Greye. 

Another  Woman's  Hnsband. 
Violet  Lisle, 
Fair,  bnt  Faithles& 
Another  Man's  Wife. 
Between  Two  Hearts. 
'Twiiit  Love  and  Hate. 
A  Woman's  Tem|>ta;tioii. 
Beyond  Pardon 
PutAttmder..  J'v 
Betwceii'TwoljOvea  "^ 
Undoir »  Shadow.     ,, 


The  Earl's  Atonement 

Bepented  at  Leisifire.     '   ' 

Weaker  than  a  Woman. 

Dora  Thome. 

A  Golden  Heart  > 

A  Mad  Love. 

The  Duke's  Secret. 

T^ife  in  Name  Only. 

A  Fiery  OrdeaL 

The  Shadow  of  a  Sin. 

A  Woman's  War. 

GlaribelsfboveStoiy.     , 

An  Ideal  Love  (new). 

From  Out  tiie  Glooia^ ' 

Thomis  and  Orange  Blossonu. 

Thrown  On  the  World.  , 

Lord  Lynne's  Choice. 

Siinshijie  and  Bosee^  , 


For  sale  by  aS[  bookselieK  and  newsdealers,  or  sent 
(lOStage  free  on  receipt  of  pricey  tlie  publishers. 


"S^- 


StpET&  SMITO  ]  " 

\^    ajLto  ji  Rose  Street,  New  York. 


-'HL 


<^       (I 


OVER  ONB^MiiucfN  OP  jHiis^  a^o/koB  stmiLi!^i¥sf 

NOVELS  HAVE  BEEN  SOUX 


Mrs.  Georgie  Sheldon's 

Novels. 


These  novels  are  copyrighted  and  can  be  had  only  in 
the  Clover  Series.    Paper,  25  cents.    Cloth,  one  dollar. 

1— Lost,  a  Pearle.    By  Mrs.  Georgie  Sheldon. 

2— Stella  Ro8e'<^elt    By  Mrs,  Georgie  Sheldon. 

8— Sibyl's  Influence.    By  Mrs.  Georgie  Sheldon. 

Arr^Prixy,    By  Mrs.  Georgie  Sheldon. 

6— A  True  Aristocrat.   By  Mrs.  Georgie  Sheldon. 

^Max.    By  Mrs.  Georgie  Sheldon.       " 

7— Two  Keys.    By  Mrs.  Georgie  Sheldon.  ■■  ^^ 

S—Thrice  Wedded.    By  Mrs.  Georgie  Sheldon. 

9— Witch  Hazel    By  Mrs.  Georgie  Sheldon. 
lO-Virgie's  Inheritance.    By  Mrs.  Georgie  Sheldon. 
11— Audrey's  Recompense  (new).    By  Mrs.  Georgie  Sheldon. 
12— Buby's  Reward.  ^By  Mrs.  Georgie  Sheldon. 
13— Edrie's  Legacy.    By  Mrs.  Georgie  Sheldon. 
14— Tina.    By  Jlrs.  GjBorgie  Sheldon. 
16— That  Dowdy.    By  Mrs.  Georgie  Sheldon. 
16— Geolfrey's.1^ctory.    By  Mrs.  Georgie  Sheldon. 
18— Wedded  by  Fate  (new).    By  Mrs.  Georgie  Sheldon.' 
55— Mona  (new).    By  Mrs.  Georgie  Sheldon. 
80— His  Heart's  Queen  (new).    By  Mrs.  Georgie  Sheldon. 

For  sale  by  all  bpoksellers  and  newsdealers,  or  sent 
postage  free  on  receipt  of  price,  by  the^ublishers.  ^ 


STREET  &  SMITH, 

a5  to  31  Rose  Street,  New  York. 


.'.»■**, 


~lf^)ln 


iSi-Jf  ■ 


r;-  ,f'    X,  ,  > 


^^,  W*V^  TPms  mmom)  THOUSAND  dp  JUUA 
BDWA»^Sf  JmVBLS  HAVB  »BBN  SOUK 


on's  I  Julia  Edwards'  Novels: 


A  poor  girl  with  the  dangerous  heritage  of  beauty 
must  needs  possess  a  heart  as  true  as  steel  to  escape  the 
traps  set  to  ensnare  her  by  designuig  men.  No  Kvinff 
writer  is  the  equal  of  Julia  EdwardUn  the  vivid  portray^ 
of  the  struggles  and  triumphs  of  the  brave  daughters  of 
the  people^the  working  girlsof  our  great  cities. 

St 

These  novels  are  copyrighted  and  can  be  had'  bnly  in 
th<rClover  Series.    Paper,  23  cents.    Cloth,  one  dollar. 

41— Prettiest  of  AIL    By  JuUa  Edwurda 

42-.TheLi^le  Widow.    By  JnUa  Edwarda. 

43— BeautifW  but  Poor.    By  Julia  Edwarda. 

44r-Sadia  tlie  Eoaebud.    By  Jnlia  Edwards.      "■  ■ 

40— I«ora  Brayton.    By  Julia  Edwards. 

46-Stella  Sterling.    By  Jnlia  Edwarda. 

47-HeLoveBMe,HeLoveaMeNot    By JnHa Edwards. 

JuUa  Edwards'  heroines  are  all  taken  from  real  life  - 
and^  the  spirited  action  of  the  story  holds  the  attention 
and  mterest  of  the  reader  without  intermission   from 
cover  to  cover.  ,  _ 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers  and  newsdealers,  or  sent  > 
postage  free  00  receipt  of  mce.  by  the  publkhi^r,. 

.  STREI^i  SA41TH,  ™''.   '    ''''^ 

4    V  V  -  25  to  31  Rose  Street,  i>^ew  York. 


-  » 


-     i 
V 


iS.iVi 


»'r 


««>«-*"' 


.**'! 


;>J<aii*' *■'■-"«-.: 


■"■    \  <ii 


>tti' 


It  is  a  spirited  Tomanoe  of  to^  and 
eoTintry,  ai^d  a  faithful  reprodnotion  of 
the  drama,  with  the  same  nniqae  ohar- 
aotera,  the  same  gnphio  soeaes,  but  with 
the  nanatiYe  more  artistically  rotmded 
and  oompfbtdd  than  was  possible  in  the 
brief  limitff  of  a  dramatio  representation. 
This  tonohing  story  effebtively  demon- 
strates that  it  is  possible  to  prodaoe  » 
novel  which  is  at  pnoe  wholesome  and 
interesting  in  every  part,  vithont  the 
introduction  of  an  impure  thought  or 
suggestion.    Bead  the.  following  s.  , 

opinic5ns  of  the  press:      ' 


S!K^'S.S*T2'""S?"»*2'»«Wttta«  popular.  iW 
an  impnn  Xbao^x  or  miggMtton.  "JS«S>Sf.^^  ^^^  wltbont  Oia  Introduction  o^ 

ffiaBfat  A  fil^lHi  fi&VA  faHntt#l  firfn«A  r%m^^^^-^  «■_«_••     .»  ..  


thedi^|fW.K.!ri'^iS^5^-:;,,^Vo?S2^ 

•onow,  an^ipni  neneik-^tm  JVanc*MBaii&.  ^  <tf  dooMBtlo  Bfc,  joy,  ii^^ 

«e«tSSSSSS!S;»J^ 

ItJs  ftmi^ed  on  Oie  popular  play  of  the  same  name.  In  which  yttia  —- _I_ «.  J^ 

fbe.  aatbor  ofttw  rtiwy.  h»*  achtevcd^  SSEMaSSJio^^^ 


SesytiL: 


■^ 


-^    — —  to  Ito*  T  of  ''Drama  8«ri«a.''A>*'c 

'^A^J^VlS^l^^^^J*'''!^^^'^^  •'  »"«•• «  cents.  *6rt£> 


-  '^^(ft'^fej 


91'$  OLD  HOIESmp. 

8T1IEET  *  SVITK'Sl  OBAKl  SERIES  Ho.  0. 


•■•t  J 


■Vr. 


iPrlos.  iXS  Oent«. 


../- 


X 


Some  Opinions  of  the  Preai^  k-;^^ 

"Ai  flm  t>RMI>Ultle8  an  ramoto  of  the  pkur  Tbt  Old  ^OmartHul'  beli^Mn  An*. 

bogjH  y«t  It  to  no  more  veAoM  ttian  neb  a  story  flhoold  be.  mS  ItSveS  iSne  ioSd 
pk^mpf  tbe  aoenes  and  people  wbo  Ibr  a  year  «t  njora  ba^e^teen  aeI?b2S>  t£S£ 
jmd,  nWhOy.  UnjOe  Joah,  Aunt  TUdy,  Old  h,  PrtaSTKeuben.  &?MjSa^  ^^ 
tiie  AuM  M>d  all  Oe  o^her  obanusten  ue  bmCbeBtde  aomenewonS:  It  la  toS 
bopedtbattbebpokwmmakeal«n*le,ooto^on  Ite  ^t^t  ttwt  <^wl£]S 
owDOT  mayfcel  enoouased  to  lef  theirworka^feadbytSenuS^ttoaSSS^ 
cannot  b^iw  to  see  tbem  on  the  ataco."»JK  r.  Memo,  Svat^ttT  ^^      ^"''"'  *■* 

-.m'^°5?"  Thompawrt  The  Old  Homeetead*  to*  stoiy  of  doods  and  aandifiM«Miih 
natfnv  qvm  a  venweated  bomet  of  a  grand  old  man.  boneat  andMnnt.  v^o^StmS^ 

dmloiatdeoondnct^a wKTwud aon;  a stoiy of  ooontnr ute, love and^a^^  «aS 
2«^iSlf"iS*52S?*'*'  "l^"  tbeWhlthy'flavor  of  tie  fliiito  to  weiyoSS&r^ 
to^o^  on  seninaa  Thcn^n'i  dnuna  of  TbeOld  n<meateSf^^K^^ 


boo;^»5^*of^^<8S^SS2L^^ 

SSiSl.^'Sf *'^?*^?*U*£r*"?W of  tbe  ptJUtobeis In gtying tbe  dnma tBUaoM^^^ 
n«(ionftnIn.'^-JO^JrornirvJbMnla<,JllneSd.  — •»"««««u»uuepeiiaaneni 

day  Vf/Tbe  Old  Homestead,'  bas  enooonT^ 
'-»-,  to  publish  a  goodSsed  novel  ^m 
.thenma ^aiaetert and  mon too. 


23l?^°^<^'>^™'>*<!>'  fbrtheiday  to  tibe  simple  ioodlisto~andm^lIhTK^^^ 
f  -KU-.  u  ^  — —  J*.  imbltob^Sn  Btwet  *|SXJ!Ll  tov  ta^^^ 


I  trtlksh  H  to  WHUwn.    xm  vuDimera  ai«  Boeet  A  wmitii,  uu 
I  iiBwivlnobeappi9a]axIi)rai.»--JK  7. OnvNe, Utrtk 


[  «.-«'^5?S5!?  Thotnpaon's  p&y,  "Tlfc  Old  Homestead,'  to  flunlltor.  at  iMst  bv  mimte. 

Uy  And  sensadon,  and  «•  ranakkaUy  Iteiata^l^  ~ 


^>Oenmaaniom] 
hy8tnetdi«mltti. 


mat  poonlailty  of  the  play. 


>)3»n'i|0UHpmestead'  Jias  been  pot  toto  stoiy^ftum  and  to  ta 


tosoed 

th* 


■"•*"*  *''~-^oClt»tiiieandayii»>*i>><«M<«*<>no>"»  /v#— l~_r   ".H2~*.?™P**«^«y' 
dl-tioanl 


t  tbeater  In  New  York,  and  *'''-\riimmnmmimui^7r* r 
Beetle  touches  of  natoiS:  AllM^taSSSSSSSh 


>S5:\ 


•>-5i£l 


ir. 


■      1. 

'  \ 

■    I 

I 


t  »•    "■  -  5-  \"*  -.^'^'f '^.V'^ST^p 


i-' 


fo;fsv;!''' 


Wver  ^dl^/oii,  2SCenta.s.4!im  BtUUoa,  One  DoUar. 


This  series  contains  tlje  best  works  of  our  ^ost  en- 
tertaining writers.  We  head  the  list  with  the  best  stories 
by  the  ever-popular.  .     •   ^ 

MRS.  QCORQ(C  iHCLbON. 

Over  eight  hundred  thousand  of  Mrs.  Ceorgie  Shel- 
oon  s  novels  have  been  sold.  ^ 

Ho.  U  Lost,  a  Pearle. 

N(>^  2.  Stella  Rosevelt. 

No.  3.  Sibyl's  Influence. 

No.^.  Trixy.       p 

No.  $.  A  True  ArisjtQcrat 

No.  6;  Max.  /   ' ,    \^ 

No.  8.   Thrice  Wi#^^' 
No.  9.   Witch  Hiuet 
No.  10.   Virsi^*s  Inheritance. 
No.  11.  Audr#*s  Recompense. 
No.  12.   Ruby's  Reward. 

For  sale  by  aU  booksellers  aiid  newsd^lei^  #^ 
pottage  free  on  receipt  of  price,  bjr  the  publishere/ 


^i 


^ 


EM 


srmwT^e-smm, 


m 


^5  to  ji  Rose  Street,  New  Yorlc 


.*  t 


^AftXjj,*'    '   >" 


J-i^     ^^rf,t\*w(ti 


-  -,f  *x'^ 


on,  One  Dollar, 


s.  <jeorgie  Shel- 


«t,  New  York, 


tThrShfeld  Series. 


Price,  Paper  BdMoa,  23  Cents, 


Devoted  to  tales  of  the  detection  of  crime,  by  thos^ 
jrave  ^nights  of  the  shk||-the  tireless  sleuths  of  th4 
letec%e  force.  •     ,;J^H^.    .  ^ 

1— 0«i|ight  in  the  IiI^mKbj  Nick  Carter. 

9^The  Old  PetectMMpP  By  Nick  Carter. 

3— A  Wall  Street  H^x^^^Hek  Carter. 

4-The  Crime  of  a  Oop^a    By  Nick  Carter. 

5— A  Titled  Counterfeiter.  By  Nick  Carter. 

6— A  Woman's  Hand.    By  Nick  Carter. 

7— Fighting  Against  Millions.    By  Nick  Carter. 

8— The  Piano  Box  Mystery.-    By  Nick  Carter. 

9--A  Stolen  Identity.    By  Nick  Carter. 

10— The  Greaf  Enigma.    By  Nick  Carter. 

ll~The,(^j>lers'  Syn^ate.    By  Nick  Carter. 

12— PhiyfteaBo^dGfe^e.    ByNickCj^r. 

18— the  An^rioaa  Marqnis.    By  Nick  Carter.  " 

14-^TnMjked  Across  the  Atlantic  (new).    By  Nick  Carter. 

16— The  Mysterious  Mail  Rol)bery  (new).    By  Nick  Carter. 

l^—Brant,  Adams,  the  Emperor  of  Detectives.    By  Old 
Slenth. 

i7— 6nice  Angelo,  the  City  Detectiva    ^j^jf  Sleuth.  ^ 
18— Van,  the  €k>yemmen«  Detective.    ByOT^leuth.  • 
Id— Old  Stonewall,  the  Colorado  Detective.    By  Judson  B. 

20— The  Masked  Detective.    By  Judson  R.  Taylor. 
21— The  Chosen  Man.    By  Judson  R.  Taylor. 
22r-Tpm  and  Jeny.    By  Judson  R.  Taylor.  ^ 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers  and  newsdealers,  or  sent 
[  postage  free  on  receipt  of  price,  by  the  publisher. 


■  ^'^^V  «:i; 


STREET  &  SMITH, 

aj^to  ii  Rose  Street,  New  York. 


"f  ■ 


i!) 


*'t 


•      mU. 


%S^ 


<'y 


^^ 


-^.-  I 


THE  CRITERION  SERIES* 


^IS&v 


,J 


^  V- 


f\ 


5) 


5  «  ^  \. 

,   Inpresenting  this  serifjs  of  hfgh<<Ias$  novels  tp  tht  , 
^blic  we  take  pride  in  announcing  that  every;  numbe. 
will  be  of  the  highest  merit,  printed  in  the  best  style  or  ; 
Ihe  first  quality  of  papen    This  series  will  be  our  4)est,  | 
^  as  regards  coi^^iy^pe^rar^..^.  ^ ;      :;,     | 

>0f  No,  I •   Mr«  Lake  of  Chicaf|»o^      «^-^      ^ 


By  Harry  DuBcIs  Ntlinan. 


B  No.  2*  O^  ilack; 


^iF  J  ,;■ 


:m 


No.  dl    Pr.  Jack's  Wife. 


j-^^  '■: '^■ 


9y  St.  Geors^  RathlyonHf^        h-iv.^- 

f  No.  4^  Mlbs  Paunm^fm^^ 

^i^^,\  'r  By  the  Author**  |>r^j^l(i^.o?]'>^&> 

..ir.4^;?>^:;v^-.^n<«^y.the  Author  arDftaaolu  'Jv^j-^^!^-  i:i^ 

^^   No.  6*   Miss  Caprice.  "    <  ?  ^  t^  *   -^r^i 

j.':*'  By  tha  Author  of  Di^  JaclU 

if  i*fc  f*j  Baron  S 

*'^.  V  By*th*  Author  of  DrwOadlk 

<M    For  sale  by  all  boolsellers  and  newsdealeri,  or 
flQftige  fttti  on  tecdpt'of ^riee»  \>y  t|)^  piiblishen. 


**ii 


•^ 


, .  .85  tp  nJtbse  Street  Ni^ 


Q' 


iERIES 


fl 


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.»  j,t. 


^ta  novels  t9  tl^t 
that .  evtryi  nufnbe. 
n  the  best  style  or 
J  will  be  our  best  , 

an. 

^»'. '   ' :    !i'f . 

cM^  ' '' 


ewsdealem,  or;^ 

piibiishen. 

!  Streets  Mew  Vort 


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